Plain Sight
by Wheel Then
Summary: Alex Rider is looking to disappear, on the run from an organization and is still hurt from his latest stint in said organizations torture cells. Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey are about to close a big case. What happens when misunderstanding occurs between the two parties? Takes place after Scorpia Rising and right after Mozzie is shot in season 2. Rated T for violence and language.
1. The Takedown

**Hey this is Wheel Then; I noticed there were not many Alex Rider and White Collar Crossovers so here is Plain Sight. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or White Collar.**

The Takedown

New York, Alex Rider

Alex Rider was quite tired. He could feel his heart beating at twice the normal pace. He was quite aware of the blood slowly trickling down his body. His back was aching in protest of the lashing it had been given this time. His wrists were hissing from the burns that had been coldly administered. His legs were moaning from the beating they had been given. Through all of this, the loudest push came from a voice from the voice in the back of his mind. It only said one thing, "Survive" sometimes it sounded like Jack's voice, sometimes Tom's, even Sabina's and Ian's. So as much as he wanted to just lie down and die, he knew he could not. He had to survive for all those who had died protecting him. So, he kept moving, without heeding the cries of pain emanating from his body.

To be honest not even he knew he had escaped this situation. From the wreck he had emerged from surmised that nothing less than a coup d'état had occurred within the organization. One minute all were united the next it was havoc. Those who would have gone out for coffee yesterday were killing each other without a moment's hesitation. In the havoc and chaos it had been quite easy for Alex to slip out. Of course he had not gotten out completely unscathed. Though no bullets had entered his being, but he had been hit with more falling debris than ash covered city of Pompeii. As he had exited his cell he had been lucky enough of finding a dead guard with a fully load .45 ACP with an extended mag and a wallet with about 50 dollars in it. The guard had been caught by surprise and had one of the first casualties in what had turned out to be an all-out war zone between the two factions. He lost count of the men he killed on his way to the exit. This organization had been arrogant enough that they had not blind folded him when they had caught him. In fact the only thing they had done right was knocking out all communication devices on him via a directional electromagnetic pulse. That all did not matter to him right now though, he had escaped that hell hole, and that was cause for celebration.

After he had put enough distance between him and the accursed compound he rented himself a cheap motel room. He quietly chuckled at the face the clerk made when he limped in and asked for a room. When he finally saw his reflection in the mirror he understood why the clerk had looked at him like he had. His hair was a rat's nest, his face was streaked with oil, his nose was bleeding, and his eyes looked extremely sullen. His face wasn't the only problem though, his arms were splotched red from the burns and his clothes torn from the fight. All in all he looked like a zombie straight from a horror film. After a painful shower and treating all the wounds he could with the limited amount of first aid the motel provided he fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

A Couple Days later

New York, Peter Burke

The White Collar division was currently rejoicing. They were about to close a huge case, and were about to recover almost 5 million dollars' worth of bearer bonds. It was going to be quite a catch. The culprit had done his research on the company. He had struck right when the company was going through its annual security upgrade. He had been in and out before anyone noticed anything. He had made one crucial mistake by fencing them almost immediately with a mysterious man named Nicolas Holden. It was also going to be an easy catch. They had the location of the man via a tracer on his cell phone. The culprit had rented a small room in a tiny motel in the middle of the city. Peter Burke was taking no chances with this catch though. He had placed people on the fire escape and ones milling around the building all in plain clothes

As customary Peter rapped on the front door and yelled, "FBI, OPEN UP". When no one answered the door he smashed aside the rotting wooden door with a powerful kick and entered with his gun held high. The culprit looked to be sleeping on the bed. Peter motioned to rest to be silent as he wanted to cuff him without problem. Peter silently crept up on the culprit and reached towards his hand. That was when the action began.

* * *

Motel Room, Alex Rider

Alex had been awoken very rudely as his door had been blasted aside, but made no indication as factor of surprise could greatly help him in this situation. From the sound of the muffled footsteps he figured about 5 had entered the room. He heard the sound of breathing from one of the men get louder as he approached. He let the man approach and lashed out at the last second with a powerful punch to the person solar plexus. The other men converged on him as the first fell soundless to the ground unconscious. These men were not fighters from what Alex could tell their forte was shooting from a distance. If Alex had been at full strength he would have easily dispatched these men. So far only his arms and legs had healed. But his back was still a major problem. He could not twist out of way of any major body blows and slowly and painfully was overwhelmed. As Alex Blacked out he heard a faint voice yelling "STOP."

**Well that's Chapter 1 of Plain Sight; this will be my first chaptered fic. Please Review, even if you have nothing good to say, say it, I am always looking to improve, also I am looking for a better title so if you could suggest one it would be great. Thank you for reading.**

**-Wheel Then**


	2. Interrogations and Solutions

**Hey, this is Wheel Then, and here is Chapter 2 of Plain Sight. Thank you to all those that Reviewed, Followed or Favorited. I cannot believe how much reply I got, you guys are really motivating me to update.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own either Alex Rider or White Collar **

Interrogations and Solutions

Peter Burke

Peter woke up very confused. He was lying on the ground and his chest hurt like hell. The last thing he could remember was reaching down to cuff the culprit. He slowly opened his eyes to be greeted with the face of Neal. Relief was evident on his face.

"You took quite a hit there, Peter, had us a little worried for a second, "remarked Neal smiling.

"What happened?"

"Oh, nothing much, you just got knocked out by one punch from a kid."

"A kid?!" Peter replied incredulously, "I call your bluff"

"No bluff, Peter, just a fact"

He slowly raised himself off the ground his chest groaning as it moved, from experience Peter could tell, this was something that was going to hurt for quite a while. "No kid could do this much to me with only one punch" Peter grumbled underneath his breath.

"Please tell me, we at least have him in custody" Peter said.

"Yeah we got him, but it took 4 of our guys to take him down, hell, two of those guys have broken bones-."

"Now you are just making stuff up, those are highly trained federal agents that we are talking about; four on one would be a demolition, not a fair fight." Peter cut in.

"See for yourself, Diana and Jones already took him back to the office but, you can see for yourself when you get there" Neal replied smoothly.

A little while later in the Office

"Diana, Jones, any idea on who this guy sleeping in the interrogation room is?" Peter questioned.

"He had a wallet in the room, no driver's license or state ID card but had a card by the name of James Morisotti, I am currently working on running the name through various databases, also we did not find the Bonds in the room" informed Diana

"Anything else about him I need to know about him before I go and talk to him?" Peter questioned.

"That is where I step in," Jones said, "In his room we found a Colt 45 with most of the mag empty, plus a number of knives hidden in various place on his body, and considering how well some of them were placed, he may have more on him that we may of missed. Count yourself lucky he did not kill you when he lashed out earlier."

"So, you are saying I should take an armed guard in with him to talk to him," Peter asked jokingly

"No, we just want you to be mindful, Peter," Neal interrupted before Jones could reply.

* * *

Alex Rider

Alex was rudely awoken for the second time that by the same man. He took a few seconds to regain his bearings. He could see that that he was in some high rise building, Manhattan from the looks of the skyline. His arms were handcuffed in front of him. He also quickly deduced that he was weaponless, as he could no longer feel any of his knives. Hopefully, they had not found the one in the sole of his boot. Only one man had entered the room, he had quite a serious face and looked kind of angry. Alex let his face and eyes go blank. First rule of resisting interrogation: never betray any emotion. He sat down on the other side of the table.

"Hello there, Mr. Morisotti, is that your name?" he questioned, "I must say, you are looking at some serious time, stealing 5 million dollars' worth of bearer bonds, it is no joke." This threw Alex off quite a bit, he did not know who this Morisotti was, nor did he have any idea why they thought he stolen the bonds.

"Not one for words are you, kid, well the just let me do the talking, my name is Peter Burke and I am a FBI agent." Peter drawled." See, we here at the agency do not believe you could have stolen this amount of Bonds alone, so we are willing to make a deal, give up your partner or partners and we will see that you don't get tried as an adult for stealing all this."

Alex had almost laughed and let his façade slip when Peter had finished this statement. What type of trick were they trying to pull, did they really think that he was going to trust them just because the said that they were feds. HA, he was not going to fall for such a cowardly trick.

"Still not going to bite, eh well, let me lay out the facts for you. They might get you to change your mind. A little while ago you came to New York looking for something, maybe you had just ran away from home, I don't know those exact details, but then you met someone. This someone promised you money and a life off the cold streets. All you had to do was talk to some security clerks and distract them on a certain day. It sounded like easy cash and you wanted to get off the streets, so you agreed quickly. After your job was done, the person who had given you the job told you to come to this hotel and you could stay in a room for as long as you wanted, am I correct?" Peter told then asked.

At this point Alex was laughing as hard as he could inside his own head. In fact he was having a hard time holding up his façade. The story was just so outrageous, and so far from the truth. True, he had come to New York not long ago, but at the time where he was supposedly distracting guards he had actually been locked up in a dingy cell. This Peter Burke really must be a federal agent; terrorist organizations did not have such imaginations in storytelling.

His façade must have slipped a little because Peter Burke then triumphantly said, "I am right aren't I; I can see the disbelief in your face. Also, that room you were staying in was only paid for 2 more days, so your new city friend was going to stab you in the back anyway. So, kid, if you don't want to be an accessory to theft, then you better tell us your partners' name. If you don't, I will repay the favor for what you did to me earlier this morning, by making your life hell." Peter finished trying to look menacing.

* * *

Peter Burke

This kid was going to break; Peter could just feel it in his gut. For the entire interrogation he had sat there stone faced and cold. It had made it almost hard to talk looking at those dark, empty brown eyes. At the end though he knew he had won, the kid probably could not believe his ears when his story had been seen through so quickly.

"A little harsh there, don't you think Peter, and where did you come up with that story, it wasn't something we had discussed earlier?" Neal asked as met him outside the interrogation room.

"Really it was quite simple; his mannerisms suggest that he isn't from around here, so he must have only come recently. He is quite thin and does not look like he is in good shape. That led me to conclude that he must not have been taken care of properly. Finally he can pack quite a punch and carried knives around with him, so that must mean he has lived on the streets. Plus he is just a kid so I doubt he actually stole the bonds, but was used as some kind of distraction or a way to gather information. Then I connected all the dots and came up with that story." Peter stated simply.

"Ah, the power of deduction, you could be the next Sherlock Holmes, Peter, you got all of that information with just one look," Neal complimented. "Anyway what are we going to do with the kid, we can't just send to holding like the other guys we catch, he just a kid looking for a way up in life. Also, I kind of empathize with him; I was once in his position. I turned to crime; we need to find a way to m-"

"BOSS!" came Diana's yell from her desk, "you need to see this ASAP"

Peter proceeded to walkover and ask," What did you find?"

"We got a hit on the name James Morisotti, and it is not good. First of all, it is not even the kid. Second of all, he has a rap sheet the size of Long Island" finished Diana. "Theft, Assault, Drug Possession, Weapons Possession are just a few on the list. He has been in and out of jail for quite a while now. The most surprising part though is not this, he is suspected of having ties to the Italian Mob."

* * *

Neal Caffrey

Honestly, Neal felt horrible for the kid. Just a couple years ago he had been in the very same place. He had just come to a big city, running away from the only home he had known. He had been lost and he had not found his way out until Peter had caught him. He had not made good decisions and they had cost him a lot. His old thieving ways had affected him and the one around him. Because of his decisions not many trusted him. Now especially, after the Fowler incident, even Peters' trust had lessened. He did not want to see this happen to the kid.

Diana had just finished up talking about the Italian Mob when Neal got an idea," This is just my opinion but maybe this James Morisotti is actually the guy who orchestrated the theft in the first place, and is the one who used the kid."

"No, that can't be right; Morisotti is more of grunt than a mastermind, but maybe the Italian mob has had a hand in this" Peter said after a few pensive seconds." Maybe we should talk to Organized Crime, see what we can find out, because all of this is speculation.

"No," Neal barked, "We cannot tell Organized Crime about this"

"It's my call Neal, besides we might get some good information."

"Peter, just hear me out on this one, we cannot tell Organized Crime because who knows what they will do the kid in there, they are known for being one of the most merciless units in the FBI, and they will tear him apart. I can't let that happen, YOU shouldn't let that happen, he is just an innocent kid caught in some hard times."

"The kid really got to you, huh. Are you sure, he might not be as innocent as you think. What is your idea Neal, since you don't want to mention the kid? I won't lie to any, keep that in mind."

"With my idea you won't have to lie, just omit parts of the story, tell Organized Crime that we found the card at the motel room, don't tell them anything about the kid."

"That's cutting it a little close isn't it, but what are we supposed to do with the kid, we can't just leave him here that will give it away almost immediately."

"I can take him, he can stay at my place, and I can try to turn him off of the path that I took."

"You, your place, don't make me laugh," Peter snorted," You can hardly take care of yourself, you already live off of fast food; tell me exactly how you are going to take care of him."

"I will find a way," Neal indignantly stated.

"Enough, I think your idea got to me, I will take him to my place, maybe El can straighten him out. However, I don't trust him, so if he stays at my place I can watch him."

**Chapter 2 of Plain Sight finally finished. A total of 1,990 words not including ANs. It's also 2:45 AM and I am tired, so if there are any errors that I missed please tells me in your review. Another worry I had was that I overused the "he is just a kid idea" please tell me if I did. Finally I will try to update once a week, either on Monday or Thursday. So see you all next week.**

**-Wheel Then**


	3. Proof of DNA

**Hey, this is Wheel Then, Chapter 3 of Plain Sight is up. Thanks you to all those who Reviewed, Followed, or Favorited. HUGE thanks to my new Beta, Bonkers4Reid. You made the story so much better, so thank you. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or White Collar**

Proof of DNA

Peter Burke

"What on earth am I doing" Peter mumbled to himself as he sped down the highway with an irritated looking teenager sitting in the backseat of his car. He still could not believe that Neal had offered to take care of a kid. Neal, the guy who had smiled and lied for a living, offering to help someone without an ulterior motive seemed crazy. For heaven's sake, they never even learned the kid's name! For all they knew, this kid was some part of some crazy assassination organization, sent to America to kill the president. After all, the kid had knocked him out and put two agents in plaster casts.

"So, kid, what's your name?" Peter inquired, trying to create some small talk.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" sneered the boy.

"Seriously kid, what's up with you? I'm only trying to help you. You should be grateful, if it weren't for me and my CI, you would be rotting in a holding cell in the nearest precinct." Peter heatedly replied.

"Well, if you take off these handcuffs, I might just clue you in on that secret."

"Those cuffs will only come off when your tracking anklet is activated."

"Anklet?" the kid questioned, for the first time showing some emotion other than anger or annoyance.

"That's right, you weren't told anything yet were you? Well, to put it simply, instead of holding you at a station, I am taking you to my home. Plus, while there I can watch you and question you whenever I want." Peter explained.

"Why?"

"Did I not just say that it would allow me to watch and question you whenever I want?"

"Yes, you did, but there was a 'plus' before that statement, implying that it was an additional bonus. As in, that it was not the original driving motivation behind the idea. So, I would like an honest answer to my question," the kid said in an annoyed tone.

"Ah, the irony! The kid who won't give any answer is now demanding one." mused Peter.

"Hmph," was the kid's only reply before turning his head to the window to avoid further interrogation.

* * *

Alex Rider

Though Alex had been portraying a moody teenager, he was actually extremely confused. He had been taken out of the FBI office and driven to a small townhouse a little ways out of New York. He had gotten no credible answer out of Agent Burke. As soon as he had entered the house he had been attacked by a massive golden retriever, which Alex had learned, was its way of saying hi. He was glad that his handcuffs had been taken off, not that the waterproof and tamperproof tracking anklet was any better. The anklet only allowed him 30 meters outside the house. As Alex sat in his temporary bed he considered his options.

He could always just use his contacts to get himself out of this jam, which was probably the easiest way out, even if it did leave FBI completely confused. However, he banished the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. He would not contact them ever again; he had only gone on the previous operation because he had owed someone a favor. Another option would be to escape and take his chances against the entire FBI. Lastly, he could just stick it out until the end. He wasn't too keen on running for the rest of his life, so the final option was his most probable one.

As Alex made his decision, he slowly snuck out of his room and hid at the top of the stairwell so he could eavesdrop on the conversation that was taking place downstairs.

"So, do I get an explanation of why we have a teenage boy in our guest bedroom?" asked a woman's stern voice.

"Well, hun, there was this situation at work and um, well Neal wanted this, and um it is only for a little while, and-"Peter began.

"Stop, just stop there. Neal, why don't you just explain the situation?" the woman cut in.

"Actually, El, it's really simple. We think he may have had something to do with some bond theft. However, as he is just a kid, we obviously want to deter him from turning to a life of crime, something I am quite familiar with myself, as you know. Basically, we're just hoping that showing him some normality, at least during the investigation of this case, might help him change," Neal replied articulately.

"Thank you Neal, that actually makes sense. So, when can I meet him?" it was the woman speaking again.

"I'll get him now," Peter announced.

At this, Alex quickly scurried back to the room and quietly shut the door.

Minutes later

Alex sat at the table, opposite of Peter and Elizabeth, adjacent to Neal.

"Hi, my name is Elizabeth Burke, but you can call me El, what would your name be?" inquired El.

"My name," Alex replied, "is Alex Beckett*." It wasn't a complete lie, his name was Alex, and his mother's maiden name had been Beckett, so he had just as much right to the name.

As Alex said this Peter's jaw dropped," El, I have to give you credit, I have been trying to get an answer out of him since we found him."

"No, the identity of the inquirer doesn't matter; remember that I told you that I would give you my name when you took off the cuffs. I do not write checks that my mouth cannot cash, Agent Burke." Alex retorted sharply.

* * *

The Next Day

Peter Burke

Peter had thought about taking the kid, Alex, to work, but then thought better of it. His primary goal of the day was to research the name Alex Beckett and try to get the kid's history. It would have been bound to create some awkward situations, as Peter was not going to leave any stone unturned. He had made the call to forensics late last night in an attempt to find out if Alex's DNA sample had turned up anything. The answer was that the test result had come out inconclusive. He could expressly remember the conversation. The analyst who had performed the test had told him that it was probably just an internal error and that he would run it again. He promised to have a name ready for Burke in the morning.

As soon as Peter entered the office, he heard two voices, one of a stranger and the other was his boss Hughes. They were engaged in some kind of disagreement by the tone of their voices. As Hughes noticed Peter, he quickly waved him over.

"Peter, I want you to meet Dr. Forrester from Forensics, he is currently in charge of the department." Hughes introduced.

Dr. Forrester gave a sharp nod in Peter's direction, while Peter replied," What seems to be the problem doctor?"

"I would like to know exactly what is going on; yesterday we were sent a sample of some DNA. As you may have heard, the first test came up inconclusive. Well, of course we ran the sample again. Lo and behold, this morning we got the same result even though we used a different machine. There are only two plausible explanations: one, both of our machines, which have exemplary records, broke. The other solution we came up with is the more plausible one, the DNA does not exist, and thus you sent us false DNA!" Dr. Forester finished angrily.

"Could it be that the person the DNA came from is simply not in your database?" Peter questioned curiously.

"Ha, as if! We at the FBI Forensics and Recovery department boast one of the best ID rates in the country. Our Database not only includes our own, but we also have access to almost any database in the world! The only better one is the Smithsonian* in Washington DC, and they are funded by corporate cash. So, I can contentedly say that the problem is not from our side," the doctor stated in a rather snooty manner.

"I can assure you, doctor, this person definitely does exist, in fact, we had him here in the office for an interrogation yesterday, just ask anyone here!" Peter replied confidently.

"I did not come here to argue these petty things; I came here to tell you one thing! The next time you send us a sample, know that our machines may take longer to give a result. Goodbye and good day to you both." With that, the forensics man left without another word to either of the other two men.

Peter sat in his office confounded to a considerable degree. Not only had the DNA test proven inconclusive, but the name Alex Beckett seemed like a complete dead end. When Diana had informed him that she'd found a lead on the name, he had been ecstatic. However, the lead turned out to be nothing but smoke as it disappeared immediately. She had found a missing persons report filed two weeks ago with the same name. The lead had evaporated when Diana learned that the report had been retracted 3 days later and phone number had just been a burner cell. However, in the ash left behind by the smoke, they had gotten a name, Owen Daniels. Owen Daniels had been the one who had filed the report. Peter was shaken out of his thoughts from a light tap at the door, it was Neal.

"You wanted to see me?" Neal asked.

"Yes, come in and close the door behind you." Peter replied," Neal, did you get anything from Mozzie about the kid?"

"Nothing, an absolute zero. Mozzie has never heard the name before. I almost regret telling Mozzie about the kid, because now he wants to meet him like crazy. I wouldn't be surprised if Mozzie dropped by your house in the next couple of days, just a forewarning. He does get out of rehab at noon today."

* * *

Alex Rider

Back at the Burke household, Alex was sitting in the living room watching TV and sipping some coffee. He preferred tea, but he was supposed to be American and so he had to put up with it. Apparently, Mrs. Burke ran her own company, so she didn't leave the house some days. Alex was also quite bored, as he had already explored the area as far as he was allowed to before lunch. Now he was just wishing something would liven up the day.

Just as Alex thought this, the doorbell rang precisely three and a half times. Mrs. Burke got up with a sigh and a small smile, "Ah, that's Mozzie, I think you will find him interesting, Alex."

The man who entered was, well, different. He had a shorter stature, slightly balding head, and some very quirky mannerisms. On top of that, he had a rather forgettable face, but not to Alex. He knew this face, as did many within the intelligence community. Mozzie had many different aliases; his nickname in the crime world had been The Cleaner. They had met a just a year ago, though Alex had been in disguise at the time. Their last exchange had not gone well; it had ended with Alex holding The Cleaner as a hostage in order to escape. He certainly hoped things would go better this time around.

**Finished. Truth be told, when I started this story a couple weeks ago, I had a completely different plan, and about the first 5 chapters written on my laptop. Then, while in the process of uploading Chapter 2, I got a whole new idea and the earlier idea disappeared completely. I have seen people write on this site saying that you should write with the end in mind. So, if anyone notices anything conflicting with an earlier chapter, please notify me in a review. Ah, now I'm rambling, sorry. Please continue to R&R. Also, to clear things up, the title of this chapter is meant to be sarcastic. See you all next week.**

**-Wheel Then**

***Beckett really is Helen Rider's Maiden name. (Hmm. Castle crossover maybe?)**

***Bones reference (I do not own Bones either).**


	4. The Mob

**Hey, this is Wheel Then, Chapter 4 of Plain Sight is ready to be read. Thanks you to all those who Reviewed, Followed, or Favorited. Huge thanks to my Beta again, Bonkers4Reid. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or White Collar**

The Mob

Mozzie

As soon as Mozzie walked into the Suits' living room, he breathed a sigh of relief. He now knew exactly why he had not heard the name Alex Beckett before. The person who sat before him looked barely sixteen. Mozzie was also very glad that he was not losing his touch. As Mozzie sat down across from the boy a content smile spread across his face. That is until he looked into the kids eyes. It was quite fleeting, but he thought he saw recognition. Mozzie prided himself on his eye for detail, so while it was quick, he knew that the kid somehow recognized him. This visit had turned out to be a very suspicious one.

"You must be the great Alex Beckett," started Mozzie," My name is Dante Haversham, but people around here call me Mozzie."

"What's so great about me?" snorted Alex.

"Anyone that can confuse the Suit is always in my good books."

"The Suit?"

"Ah, that's my special nickname for most FBI guys, but Peter Burke seems to fit the bill quite well. So, where are you from, I sense a Jersey accent." The last part was a complete lie. Neal had said that Alex had been very tight lipped about his past, but they suspected that he was from New York. The lie was to confirm the fact. No true New Yorker would appreciate being asked if he was from Jersey.

Alex gave him a nonchalant look and said," Language sounds different to everyone." This statement confirmed Mozzie fear and hope at the same time. This kid was not normal; no teenager would be able answer such a question with the kind of answer that doesn't reveal any information. This also confirmed his fear of losing his touch with the underworld. Such a smart kid had come into New York and he had heard nothing about it. This also gave him hope, as a kid like Alex might be a good thing to have on his side, especially since he could get into New York without his name spreading around.

* * *

Peter Burke

While Mozzie and Alex were having a chat at his home, Peter Burke was sitting at his computer at work scratching his head. He was perplexed because he had just gotten an update from Organized Crime. Whatever they had to say, they decided to wait and tell Peter in person. In fact, they had already been on their way when Peter had arrived after lunch. This confused him because Organized Crime never came to talk to the White Collar Division. The White Collar Division was considered to be a "pansy" in the opinion of the other department. Any contact was normally brief and only over email or phone. What was so great about the name James Morisotti?

A voice brought Peter out of his reverie. Jones leaned in the doorway of his office," Organized Crime is here, they are waiting in the meeting room. Neal and Diana are with them right now."

"Alright, let's go see what they have to say," Peter replied in a slightly amused voice.

The tension in the air was palpable; Peter could feel it as soon as he entered the room. Both Neal and Diana looked a little relieved when Peter and Jones entered. One of the agents came forward immediately, "Hello Peter, it's been a while hasn't it?" the man said with a ghost of a smile on his face. This agent went by the name of Joseph Ruiz.

"Not really, we got the Book of Hours** (1)** back just a couple months ago. So, exactly what is so special that you guys had to come all the way over here to discuss?"

"The name you gave us, James Morisotti, had ties to the Italian Mob, as you already know. Well, a few days ago, the Italian Mob had a power upheaval." Ruiz began "You may have heard about a building burning down a couple days ago, that was actually what we believe to be a coup d'état. All we know is that their leader is dead, and the new guy is a hell of a lot more ruthless. The last guy was actually too scared of us to pull anything big. So, we were never worried about the mob before, but this new guy is not the same. James Morisotti was our CI, and yesterday his body was found floating in the Hudson, along with another 20 or so other bodies. We want to know how you came across his name."

"Well, we don't have much, we were hoping you would. We found a wallet in the room where our suspect was supposedly staying. When we saw that he was suspected to have ties with the Italian Mob, we thought that maybe they had something to do with the stolen bonds we were hunting."

"Well, as I said earlier, the old boss was too scared to pull any jobs, so I doubt they had any influence in your case. Did you at least talk to the clerk at the front desk?"

Neal cut in at this point," It was one of those shadier places, as long as the clients have money; the clerks look the other way."

"You would know Caffrey, only god knows how many of those you stayed in." Ruiz shot back. "I guess it was too much to hope for."

"So, who is the man who led the coup d'état? That could provide both of us with some leads," Peter interjected.

"Not too much is known about the person who is currently in charge, but we do know his first name, Daniel. We're not even sure whether the mob boss is a male or female. Our informant had given us no information on this person. And with that, we should be leaving; we have other obligations we must attend to." Ruiz finished. He and his two men exited almost immediately after.

"This isn't good," Diana started," A first name is not going to get us anywhere; there could be hundreds or thousands of Daniel's in Manhattan!"

Just as Diana said "Daniel's", Peter had an idea. "What if Ruiz was wrong, what if it wasn't a first name, but a last name? What if the name they got was missing a few letters?"

"I don't follow your drift, boss," Jones replied, obviously confused.

However, Neal was smiling like he understood," You're talking about the guy who filed that missing persons report, Owen Daniels. It's a long shot, but it is a possibility."

"It is better than what we had before. Diana, did you find anything on that name?" Peter asked.

"I did, but there's nothing major, Daniels is just a traveling businessman from Florida," answered Diana. "I do not believe he has ties to any type of criminal organization. Seems like any other man his age, two kids and a wife."

"His normality might be a façade, in this day and age, most anything can be faked. I want to talk to him; do we know where he is staying?"

"Yes, he is currently in an apartment complex just outside New York. Do you want us to go get him?"

"No need, Neal and I will go ourselves."

* * *

An hour later

Peter rapped on the door in front of him. Neal stood slightly behind him wearing a bemused smile on his face. There was a chance that whoever stood on the other side of the door was the leader of a major crime syndicate. This fact, for some reason, had Neal a little excited. Peter could understand why, as he was no stranger to excitement at the idea of taking down such a big target.

The man who answered the door was a young man. He looked about 25 and had black hair and brown eyes. He gave them a questioning look, "Hello, how can I help you?"

"Are you Owen Daniels?" Peter asked.

"Yes I am. What can I do for you?"

"I am Agent Peter Burke and we are with the FBI, we would like to ask you a few questions. Could we come in?" Peter also pulled out his badge as proof.

The man moved aside and motioned for them to enter. "Would you like some coffee or anything?"

"No, thank you." As the pair entered the main living area they noticed another man that looked a lot like Owen, but perhaps a little younger. The stranger had the same black hair, but his eyes were blue.

As the pair sat down, Owen Daniels introduced the other man, "This is my brother Ben. So, Agent Burke what do you need to know?"

"We would like to know more about the missing persons report you filed a couple weeks back, for a person by the name of Alex Beckett?" as soon as Peter said this, Ben's iris dilated and his face turned as pale as the moon.

He quickly turned to his brother and spoke," Well, it has been nice meeting up with you again Owen, but you seem to be a little busy right now, so I shall take my leave." With this statement and a swift wave he got up and promptly left before either Peter or Owen could say a word.

"Well that was weird," Owen muttered. "I apologize for my brother's attitude, he isn't normally like this. In fact, he could probably answer your questions better than I can."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, about a month ago, he came to me with a kid who looked about 16, and asked me to take care of him while I was assigned to New York. You see, I work for a consulting firm so I travel around a lot. Then a week after he came here, he vanished, so I filed the report."

"So, why did you retract it?" questioned Neal.

"Simple, I got a call from the kid saying that he had gone back to live with Ben. Today is when everything got very weird."

"Why?"

"Simple, Ben came here today to take him back, even though Alex was supposed to already be living with him. Then you guys come in asking basically the same thing."

"Okay, well, I understand how that would be a very confusing situation. Just one more question, do you know anything about the Italian mob?"

"Huh?" was all the man could reply with. His face held one of the most confused looks Peter had seen in a while. He quickly regained composure though," Not at all, what does this have to do with Alex?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it. Thank you for your time Mr. Daniels, you have cleared up a lot of things for us, thank you." Both Neal and Peter rose and left.

Once in the car, Peter dialed the office, "Diana, I want everything you can find on a man named Ben Daniels, he may be our thief."

"On it boss," was all that was heard before the apartment building they had just left exploded.

**Chapter 4 done, hope you enjoyed it. Yes, I originally planned on making Owen Daniels as Ben undercover, but my new plotline changed that into his brother. Sorry about the little Cliffie, but I know you guys can handle it. Oh, almost forgot, a new thing I am introducing to all of my ongoing stories, a meaningful review gets a preview. Thanks for reading. See you all next week.**

**-Wheel Then**

**(1) Season 1 Episode 3**


	5. Emotion

**AHHHH, I am so sorry about the late update. I got sick among other things, but I am fine now. Anyways, Chapter 5 is up. Thanks to all who Reviewed, Faved or Followed. Hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or White Collar**

Emotion

Peter Burke

"Neal, CALL 911!" Peter yelled as he quickly whipped his head around to survey the building. It had been a major blast; chunks of rock were still falling on to the side walk. Who knew how many innocent people had been hurt or worse, killed by that blast? Peter threw open his car door and sprinted toward the smoldering wreckage. Many different thoughts raced through his head. Was this accidental or intentional? If it was intentional, why? Was it a message aimed at the FBI? Or was it deeper than that? Not for the first time that day, Peter had way more questions than answers. As he stood near the crumbling building, he could still feel the heat the heat coming off the building. The sound of sirens approached at an alarming speed.

"Sir, I am going to ask you to please leave the scene," instructed a man. Peter turned his head to face the man, it was a fireman.

Peter pulled out his badge," Can you take me to your chief?" The other man soundlessly turned and pointed.

"Thanks."

Peter approached the fire chief, badge in hand. "Just a warning, but tell your men to be careful in there."

"They should know that, they are firemen, and just who are you?" The man irately replied.

"Sorry, I never introduced myself, Peter Burke, FBI. I have reason to believe this was not an accident, so there could be more explosives hidden inside."

The chief brightened up quickly," Sorry for my attitude, this has just a long week, I am Mark Logans, Chief of the 31st. What reason do you have to believe this was not accidental?"

"I apologize; it is an active investigation, so I can't reveal that to you. I should not actually be saying anything, but I thought it better to warn you."

"I understand, but thank you for the warning; we will take that into mind."

Peter retuned to the car; Neal was still sitting inside, with a phone in his hand and a shocked expression on his face. Neal faced Peter as the later climbed in," Peter, what was that?"

"I don't know Neal, I don't know."

"We definitely need to find this Ben character, he just seems too suspicious, plus his brother was in that building. We need to find out who did this, we need to do something." From Neal's statements, there was no doubt in Peters mind that Neal believed this was an intentional bombing.

"We do what we must, find criminals."

* * *

At the Office

On their way back, Peter had stopped by his house to pick up the kid. There was no use in having him stay home. Plus, he needed to know about the explosion. Who knows maybe he would relent, and tell them what he knew. All the leads they had on him had all found ways to dissipate, and Peter did not believe in coincidences. Something major was going on, and Peter did not like not knowing. Peter also now believed that Alex was not completely innocent. Whenever a case including something as serious as explosives, it affected everyone, including children, no matter how hard adults tried to keep the kids ignorant, it never worked. Maybe that's why Alex had run away from Owen's home? Peter now sat opposite of the kid in his office. He had called a meeting, but wanted to talk to Alex alone for a bit.

"Alex, I need you to tell me everything you know."

"Well, I know Math, Science, English, History, what would you like to know?" Alex cheekily responded.

"Look, _kid_, this isn't some game. This is real life, now I need real answers, or you are going to find yourself in some hell hole in the middle nowhere. That's right; you are 16 years old, which is old enough to be tried as an adult. The minute you walked out of Owen Daniels house, you lost the right the right to be tried as child." Peter knew this was not true, but he was angry. Innocent people could be dead, and this _kid_ had a 'could care less' attitude.

"So, now the FBI has stooped to lying and bullying to get information out of a teenager. Last I checked, sixteen year old teenagers only lose rights to be tried as an adult if, and only if, it is a case of murder or rape. So, pray tell me, what evidence do you have of me being a murderer or a rapist?" Alex replied calmly. Peter was shaken by this remark. How did this kid know so much? Most teenagers his age couldn't have cared less about law. Also, though the kid had stated this nonchalantly, Peter could tell something had changed; Alex's eyes had changed to a much wearier and colder glare. Almost as if he was the interrogator, not Peter. The boy's eyes seemed to look right through Peter as if he was nothing but a pawn in the grand scheme of things. Needless to say, Peter did not like this look.

"Anyways, let's go, everyone is waiting for us." Peter replied rather meekly when he could think of a comeback. He stood abruptly and motioned to Alex.

* * *

Alex Rider

Alex was seriously reconsidering his opinion of this FBI agent. From what he had heard from El had been some really good stories. Though, it was nothing out of the ordinary for a wife to praise her husband. What had struck and surprised Alex was the tone of grudging admiration from Mozzie. However, the conversation that had just occurred was far from the expected. The FBI agent had been arrogant enough to lie to Alex's face and think that the Alex knew nothing of the law. Alex was absolutely furious. Maybe this Agent was just like any other government official, lying and deceiving to get his way. As the pair entered the conference room, they were greeted by a flurry of noises. Diana was arguing with someone on her phone. Jones was furiously typing away on his laptop. Neal was standing in the corner speaking in a hushed voice.

"What do you have for me," Peter interrupted.

Diana was the first to answer," Well, boss, I am trying to get a copy of the report of the fire from forensics, but they are not being too helpful. The only information I could get was that the explosion was caused by plastic explosive, T-4 to be exact."

"T-4? Isn't an Italian build? That could be our link, also, talk to Mark Logans, he was the fire chief at the scene; he might be able to send us a copy of the report. Jones?"

"Boss, I have nothing but bad news. No matter what database I try, the name Ben Daniels is coming up blocked." Alex was surprised when Jones said this; he had expected the FBI to find out about Owen, but not Ben.

"Blocked?"

"Basically, I do not have access to the files; I do not have the authorization. None of us do, I even tried yours."

"Mine? How did you use mine, its password protected?"

"Neal."

"Neal!?" Peter addressed his voice rising.

"I wasn't going to use it." Neal whined back. "Yet" Alex heard him whisper after Peter had turned his attention.

"What happened, why are you talking about bombs?" inquired Alex.

Peter turned to Alex," Well, while you were wrapped up in little world, your friend Owen Daniels's apartment was blown up." This new revelation shook Alex to his core.

"Is he ok?" Alex asked letting emotion into his voice for the first time.

"We do not know yet, we must have been asking the right question if it got this serious. The only questions we were asking were about you Alex. So, what are you hiding Alex?" Neal interjected seeing how uncomfortable Peter had become.

Alex, though, was already lost in his own world. Owen and Ben had helped him get back on his feet after Pleasures had been killed. Ben especially had helped get rehabilitated, but Owen had also help quite a bit. Owen had accepted him as he was; he had not asked anything of Alex. He had simply watched Alex. At that time it was exactly what he had needed, a silent support. His mind flashed to eighteen months ago, Alex had been walking home after soccer practice when it happened. Also at this time, a car passed them. Alex would never forget that car, as it passed the passenger rolled down his window and shot a gun. Alex had thought it was the end for him. But, no, it was not. Alex heard a shriek of pain next to him. He had turned to see Sabina lying on the ground, her white shirt turning redder by the second. He could tell from where she lay, the bullet had been meant for him, but somehow, she had been killed instead.

* * *

Neal Caffrey

Neal was looking on at the boy in shock, as soon as he had stated that they did not know if anyone had survived. Alex had all but fainted. The kid had fallen to his knees and was staring off into blank space. His body language has changed too, when he had entered the room, he seemed like a sulking teenager. Now, however, his body language only indicated one thing, he was hurt. What really got to Neal, though, were the kid's eyes. They were still the same brown color, but they had taken on a much darker look. The look on his face was quite indescribable, it held so much emotion.

"Hey, are you still there?" Peter asked the boy while shaking his shoulders. Alex seemed to come to his senses. He blinked his eyes a couple times and looked around as he regained his bearings. Then, as if by some magic, all trace of emotion or pain which had been so evident mere seconds ago, vanished. This entire procedure confused Neal a lot. If Alex had only known Owen for a week or so, then why was he so emotionally unbalanced when he had heard about his possible demise? Also, just how was Alex able to wipe any and all emotion off of his face so quickly? This case seemed to bring up nothing but questions, and Neal absolutely hated it. He was used to having an answer, like all of the security systems he had duped in his life. All of them just need to right key, which he normally held. This case, though, it was worse than when Kate had vanished.

"Alex, who, exactly, is Owen to you?" Neal voiced.

"Nobody, he is not anybody to me anymore." Alex answered.

"Anymore?" Peter questioned.

"Hey, Alex, you would not know anyone by the name of Ben Daniels, would you?"

Neal saw Alex's dilate for a second, "Why would it matter?"

"You see, at Owen's apartment, we met a man who was the brother of Owen, Ben. Our question to you is, is he the one you working with to steal the bonds."

"Look, I have NOTHING to do with your FUCKING stolen bonds, so please, can you just leave me ALONE," Alex shouted now wholly angry. His irises now fully dilated and burning with anger. The look he was giving was one that held no pretenses.

"Calm down Alex we are just trying to help you, fine, we will leave you alone for now, but you cannot leave this room." Peter replied quickly agreeing to the boys demands, seeing how disturbed the young man had become. "Come on guys lets go, I think we need to give him some time alone."

"Neal, come talk to me in my office," Peter quietly asked as they exited.

"I want you to find about as much about Ben Daniels as you can. Going through official channel s is not going to work. Also, keep it quiet, I do not want Alex to hear about this.

"Ok, anything else?"

"Yeah, I want you to come over for dinner tonight. I want you to observe him when he is not on guard. I know you saw his transformation when I shook him out of his daze. I want you find out what he is like when he does not believe any one is watching. Also, take him to home; I don't think he is going to react as kindly if I did it. Finally, did you get anything from the request I made in the car?"

At this Neal just smiled," I maybe on to something, but I can't say anything yet, it could fall through at any minute. Also, Peter, be careful, the last person to take care of Alex may or may not be alive. "

"It's my job, danger isn't a possibility it's an absolute."

* * *

Peter Burke

Neal had taken Alex home and Peter was in his office when Diana strode in with an amazed expression on her face. "I don't know how you do it, boss, but…" she trailed off.

"We got the report?" Peter excitedly replied.

"We got it and more, the report confirmed our suspicions, it was no accident. The bomb was set off exactly in the center of the building, in the same apartment Daniel's was living in."

"Any survivors?"

"Yes, though, Daniels is still missing; the fire crew also noted that the fire was unusually hot, meaning that some sort of accelerant was also used."

"So, if Mr. Daniels was in the room when the explosion took place, he would have been incinerated immediately," Peter theorized sadly.

"That is th-"

"So, I take it that my brother is dead," floated a heavy voice from the door.

**All right, I am done. I promise next week I will update on time. I hope Sabina's backstory was not too bad, if it did not convey properly, Alex was the target, she died because of Alex has the luck of a devil and she doesn't. That is why it affected him so much; a bullet meant for him was intercepted by her by coincidence. Well, see you all next Thursday**

**-Wheel Then**


	6. Leaving

**Hey, it's Wheel Then again. I am back a day early, I have an Econ 201 midterm on Friday, and so I intend to spend tomorrow studying a lot. Thanks to all who Faved, Followed, a Reviewed. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or White Collar**

Leaving

Alex Rider

Alex had for the most recovered from his emotional breakdown. He was sure it was his fault that Owen was dead. He cursed himself for agreeing to do this job. Two weeks ago Tamara Knight had approached him saying that he owed her one, so he had accepted. The case was supposed to be simple, investigate a possible drug smuggling ring within the area. Owen had also coincidentally been in the area, so Alex had called and asked to live with him for a little while. The week after, Alex had spent roaming the area under a false name and disguise collecting information. That was when everything had escalated severely. Alex had approached what he had perceived to be the distributor to "buy in to the business." That meeting had gone flawlessly in Alex's perspective, the problem arose just afterward. The second meeting introduced a man named Llayton Morse to Alex. Apparently, Alex's alias, Ryan Lynchwell, had raised some flags, so they required him to sign some contracts before continuing. They had been generous enough to let Alex take the paperwork home to study in detail. At this point Alex believed that he was done with this case. He had handed the incriminating paperwork to Tamara and was on his way.

This was where everything had gone wrong; somehow, Morse had realized Alex was actually informing the CIA of his actions. Alex had been ambushed as soon as he had exited the subway, however, Alex managed to avoid capture at that point. He spent the next two days essentially playing an enormous game of cat and mouse within NYC. On the third day, he made a major mistake; he called Owen to make sure the older man did not worry. Alex assumed that this delay was the reason that his pursuers had been able to close the gap and capture him. After they had taken him their compound, he had found what Morse and the others had actually been smuggling, many different types of plastic explosives. After hearing Diana name the cause of the fire had been a type of explosive, Alex did not believe it was a coincidence. The mob was regrouping, and their first priority was him, the escapee. If they found Owen, he had no doubts that they found his current whereabouts. Even if Alex did not care for Agent Burke too much, he still did not want to see the man dead. With this thought in mind, Alex could only see one option in front of him, leave. It would not be too difficult; he still had quite a bit of money from compensation he had garnered from MI6. If he could get to Midtown, he would be able to access a safety deposit box full of fake Id's and other equipment. The tricky part would be escaping the anklet, the only equipment he had on himself were the knife hidden in his shoe. By his estimate, it was about a 30 minute walk to midtown from the Burke household. In that 30 minutes the FBI would probably already know of his escape and would probably have set up check points around Manhattan. Any mobile transport was out of the question, he had absolutely no money on his person.

As Alex glanced out his second story window at the reddening sky an idea began to form in his mind as he surveyed the scenery. He almost snorted in amusement, everything he required for his escape lay in front him. As this was a supposed to be a safe suburban area; Alex could see kid's bikes, baseball bats, among other things strewn across many different yards. Leaving his room would be the easy part, all he would have to do open the window and climb down the vine plant which had grown on the wall. Then he would 'borrow' a bike from one the neighbors. He could probably make the trip in 10 minutes in his current physical condition. Since the FBI would be searching a boy on foot, their search range would also be smaller. Normally, Alex would've liked to leave under the cover of dead night. Unfortunately he did not have that luxury at the moment, twilight would have to suffice. If Burke came home, escaping would be twice as hard. Alex also figured that even after he was gone, Burke and the FBI would still try to solve this case so Alex had scrawled a clue on a card. This clue would keep them on his tail rather than the ones with the explosives. Alex then placed the card on the desk and silently opened the window and trailed down the vine, he was extremely glad that he had tested the boundaries of his anklet. He would cut the plastic band at the very end of the range, which would give him the most time possible in this situation.

The second Alex cut the plastic with his knife, a buzzer equipped on the device went off. The chase was on. The bike Alex was using was not the best, but it was only a means to an end. It was a clean get away for now. He could not see any suspicious characters around him as he rode onward. The police probably thought that he would head out of town, not back in to it. However, he did not let his guard down for one moment. Avoiding all the main roadways, it turned out to be about a 20 minute bike ride. Around ten minutes in he noticed a difference; he FBI had realized he was running at this point. He only noticed this because the amount of traffic on the road had increased, his suspicions had been correct, the police must have set up road blocks. Alex entered the JP Morgan Chase and strode quickly over to the nearest teller.

"Hi, I would like to access my Safety Deposit Box," he smiled.

The teller glanced at him," Ok, sir, what is your name"

"Bond, Alex Bond. Account number C934. Authorization code 7515." Alex smirked. Lately, whenever Alex had gone on missions for other people, he had left himself an escape route. Whatever city he would be living in he would open a safety deposit box under an alias. This box would contain some money, a couple wigs and fake ids. Although, this option was an absolute last resort. He also knew that if it came to using this option, he probably would not have any way of confirming his id, so he had an authorization code placed on it, which would allow anyone who knew the code to access it. This was a little less secure, but it really was the only way for him to access it without positive id.

The teller inputted the new data into his computer, "Ok Mr. Bond, if you would follow me please." He motioned Alex to follow him. The teller led Alex down a familiar path to the area with booths. The teller led him into a curtained booth. "Wait here, we will retrieve it at once."

Alex sat in wait, his patience, though, was wearing thin. His entire body was on edge being undisguised. At the moment he was not in any danger but he could not help but feel nervous, after all, this was the first time he was running from an agency that was normally on the correct side of the law. The man returned with a steel suit case. He placed in on the desk and gave a key to Alex. "Here you go Mr. Bond. Please do as you see fit."

Alex nodded at the man and waited for him to leave. He then opened the box to see some familiar items. First and foremost he opened up the backpack. Within were 3 passports, Russian, English, and French. The backpack also contained 100 dollars cash and a credit card. This card was very important; it was a Swiss bank card which contained all of the money he had earned from MI6. His entire plan hinged on this card. Alex then removed the Russian and English passports from the backpack; all he need was the French one for where he was going to go.

Alex stepped out of the bank no longer the fair haired, brown eyed Alex Rider of Chelsea, but black haired, green eyed Pierre Jacques of Marseille. He caught the nearest cab and asked in a very thick French accent to be taken to the La Guardia Airport. He had originally been planning to go straight to the JFK international, but since he had left behind a slight clue, he could not take the risk in case they solved it immediately. Alex got to the airport without any hassle; due to his disguise he had no problem with the cops at the checkpoints.

* * *

Earlier that day

Peter Burke

Peter head whipped to the doorway. Sure enough, the man he had met earlier stood in the doorway. Although, this time Peter noticed the man spoke in an English accent. Peter stood, an arm resting on his gun, "Who are you, how did you get here?"

"I am Ben Daniels, as you may already know and I walked in." Ben replied snarkily.

"So, you admit you broke in," Diana spoke, also standing.

"No, I did not 'break in'. I simply walked in, no one stopped me. Also, since when has it been considered breaking in when a person wants to ask the FBI for help?" the man innocently replied.

"You want to ask for our help!?" Peter was quite taken aback. "Why?"

"Well, I am pretty sure I heard you say that my brother is dead, so maybe I want you to find out who did it?"

"That would be good answer if you had not just made it up." Peter replied.

"Who said anything about making it up?"

"In your statement you said that you had only just heard about your brother's possible demise from us, yet you came here before you knew that, so your earlier answer was a lie." Peter confidently returned. "Anyways, enough about from you, we have some questions."

"Sure, shoot," Ben complied surprisingly.

"What is your relation to Alex Beckett?"

"Cutting right to the chase are we? Well, he is a kid I took care off during a rougher patch for him." Ben smiled.

"Do you have any relations to the Italian Mob?"

"Where is this coming from, I thought we were talking about Alex?"

"Just answer the question."

"I don't have any."

"What are you hiding?"

"Isn't everybody hiding something?" Ben replied ambiguously, "Anyways, enough questions for now, I came here to take Alex back, so I thought to ask nicely first. So, may I take him away from you?" Ben asked in a dangerously calm tone.

Peter was absolutely appalled at the man's behavior. First, he walks into a secure building and thinks nothing of it. He then allows Peter to ask him questions, promising answers, but not giving any real ones at all. Then finally he straight out declares war on the FBI by saying he came to take Alex away from them. If he had not been seeing this with his own eyes, he would not have believed it. "No, you may not take him back, he is in custody of the FBI, and we cannot just hand him over to you. We are also, not done talking Mr. Daniels, we have many more questions to ask you."

"Well, isn't that too bad? I guess our conversation is over for now. Anyways, when you wake up, please come here." Ben spoke as he placed a card on Peter's desk.

"Huh, what a second, what do you me-." Was all Peter got out before both he and Diana fell into a slumber.

Peter awoke with a start; he blinked his eyes a couple times as he regained his bearings. As he regained full consciousness his memories came back to him. Including the ones about Ben knocking the both him and Diana out. He glanced outside, the sky was already turning red, he had been asleep for around two or so hours. He turned to his left and saw that Diana was also waking up. Peter once again turned to his desk and looked at the card that Ben had placed.

Creative Ideas Animation

Art Gallery.

5656 Main Ave. Queens, New York

"Looks, like you have meeting boss," Diana piped.

* * *

Later

The building was nothing special, from its appearance; the only thought that came to Peter's minds was, boring. Though, this could also be some major hideout for a big crime syndicate. After all, Daniels had basically assaulted to Federal Agents. He and Neal approached slowly; Diana and Jones were in the van monitoring activity via wires. Peter's first plan had been to have all four of them enter at once, but Neal had piped in with a better idea. While Peter kept the manager busy, Neal would try to get information out of any one present.

That plan went down the drain even before the two men entered the store, as Peter was about open the door, Diana buzzed in his ear," Boss, forget about this, we have a much bigger problem. The kid has cut his anklet."

"WHAT!" Peter exploded he was absolutely furious; after all they had done for the kid, he runs away. Peter had gone as far as to omit him from the report of the hotel as to not get him interrogated by Organized Crime. This is how he pays him back!

"Neal, let's go, we have a more pressing problem."

"What, what is going on?"

"We have to get back to office right now, it's much more important. I'll tell you on the way."

Ten minutes later at the office Peter had immediately called an emergency meeting; all agents were to come back to the office without a moments delay. On their way back Peter had called for road blocks and other such things all around the island of Manhattan.

"Neal," Peter addressed, "If you were in his shoes, what would you do?"

"Well, if I was a kid, I would probably try to leave the state, probably New Jersey, where the NYPD have no jurisdiction. Then try to earn some money to go even farther away. With the bridges being searched, we should have no problem catching him."

"No, I don't want to know about if you were a kid, I want to know what you would do. I am beginning to think this kid is just any ordinary kid."

"Me, I would probably head back into Manhattan knowing that the Police would be searching the bridges. Then I would attempt to acquire some money and buy a fake id while renting a place in a small inn somewhere along the road. Then use the fake id to get out of town after the commotion died down a bit."

"Ok, so either way, we can still catch him, Diana send a copy of his picture to every precinct in the area. We are going to catch this kid."

"Um, boss, I don't have a picture of him." Diana responded.

"What are you talking about, you have it, and you are the one who took it." Jones interjected.

"No, that was your job; it is always your job to take the pictures." Diana argued.

"The kid told me you had already taken his picture, I remember because he expressly asked me why his picture had to be taken twice."

"Basically, what I am hearing is that we don't have a single picture of him at all, even though he was in FBI custody?" Peter interjected.

"Yes boss," both Jones and Diana solemnly agreed.

At this point Peter felt like pulling his hair out, not only was this case extremely frustrating, but now the kid who might have made their case had disappeared. On top of that Ben Daniels was another question mark that was yet to be solved. Just as Peter was about to make some sort of remark, his phone rang aloud. He picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Peter, something is wrong, Alex isn't in the house or in the area." Came El's concerned voice through the speaker.

"Yeah, we know, he cut his anklet somehow, and is on the run." Peter replied.

"You need to see this; he left a card on the desk,"

"What does it say?" Peter asked suddenly curios.

"You need to see it, can you come home, bring Neal and Mozzie with you, they might be able to help." El asked.

"Ok hun, see you soon." Peter ended.

"Ok everybody, new plan of action, Diana I want you sit down with a sketch artist and get me a rough drawing of him. Then I want you and Jones to go out and help the local PD at the road blocks. You know his face better than any of the others out there. Neal, call Mozzie, Alex may have left us some kind of hint back at the house."

* * *

Burke household

The card Alex had left was really simple, it contained two quotes

**"A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other." **

**"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known." **

Peter stared at the lines blankly, these lines meant absolutely nothing to him, and he was completely stumped. However, both Neal and Mozzie eyes had lit up like stars. "So, what does this mean?"

"Peter, Peter, Peter, at least tell me you recognize the second quote."

"Nope, I have never seen either of these lines in my life."

Mozzie piped up," This kid is truly smart, both of these are famous quotes from the book 'A tale of two cities' by Charles Dickens from 1859."

"Let me ask again, what does it mean?"

"Well, the first one is pretty obvious; it means that everyone has secrets that they cannot reveal to anyone." Neal answered.

"So, in a way he is mocking us for not being able to find out his secret."

"No, not at all, what he is trying to say is secrets can really be really deep, so he telling us that his secrets need to remain an enigma." Mozzie elaborated.

"What really worries me is the second line?" Neal spoke aloud. "It is one of the most renowned lines from the novel."

"But isn't it saying that he is going to do better things and go to a better place. How is that worrisome?"

"Peter, the character who spoke those lines, Carton, spoke them as his death was imminent. Then character, Sydney Carton was at the time sacrificing himself for the sake of others. He was saying that he was finally going to be at peace. Those were his last words." Neal spoke in a low voice as he explained the true meaning of the quote.

**Chapter 6 is done. What are Alex's true intentions leaving behind an ominous line like that? This is by far the longest chapter I have ever written, over 3000 words. It was so much fun to write though. I don't own A Tale of Two Cities either, but it is a really good classic, I recommend to all who love old literature, it can be very dark at times though. I live books like that though, like 1984, George Orwell was an absolute masterpiece according to me. I can ramble on about books like that for a long time. It is almost hard to believe that I am not a literature major. Anyways, I do not actually know where the Burke's house and CIA office are located in New York, so all of the addresses are made up. Though, there really is a JP Morgan Chase Bank in Midtown. **

**I have a question for you guys, should I bring Ben in as a major character (gets his own POV) or leave him as a supporting character like he is right now? Well, see you all next Thursday.**

**-Wheel Then**


	7. Identity

**Sorry about being late, but I hit some major writers block, but I got over it. Here is chapter 7, hope you enjoy it. Thank you to all to faved, followed, and reviewed.**

**General E- The reason I did not have the CIA come bail Alex out is because Alex does not want to owe favors to any Intelligence Agency anymore. Though truthfully I did consider that option, but decided against it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider or White Collar**

Identity

Peter Burke

Peter was absolutely shocked at Neal's word. He was sure, whoever Alex was; the kid probably wasn't completely sane. What was he thinking leaving behind words that were renowned as famous last words? Peter knew his next course of action, he had to find the kid and stop him. At the present Mozzie and Neal were discussing possible hidden messages within the quotes. They had even gone as far as to pull up the original book on Peter's laptop to check for any possible references. The conversation between the two almost felt like a foreign language to Peter.

"Why?" Peter suddenly voiced, interrupting the two, as a thought struck him.

"What?" Neal asked, evidently confused.

"Why did he not just run and leave nothing behind, why did he declare his leaving in such major way? This just doesn't make sense."

"Peter, the boy is lonely right now; someone close to him is dead. He doesn't want to face this anymore so he ran away, but he subconsciously doesn't want to turn over a new leaf. Leaving this note is proof that at least a little part of him wants us to catch him. He may not have expressly hidden any code in this message, but the quotes he placed on this sheet of paper might give us some insight into his current state of mind."

"Well, it doesn't matter if he wants us to find him or not, we are going to try either way."

* * *

The Next Day

Peter walked into a very busy office; everyone was currently devoting all of their energy in finding any possible lead. Diana greeted him at the door with a neutral look upon her face. "I have some good news and some bad news, yesterday a boy matching Alex's description was seen entering the JP Morgan and Chase bank around 6ish yesterday. I am still waiting on a warrant for their security footage."

"That's good, I will be in my office if you find out anything more," he instructed, then turned to Neal and spoke," Neal, come with me."

Peter shut the door behind them as they entered," So, did you get any solid results from my request?"

Neal smiled," Yes and no. I asked Mozzie to spread around the name Ben Daniels, with his description in the criminal underworld. Mozzie got contacted by someone claiming to know have some information in exchange for payment. Naturally, he agreed to the man's terms. The crazy part starts after that, when Mozzie went to the meeting, his contact never showed. Now, Mozzie hasn't been able to get in contact with him again."

"Well, at least that tells us that Ben Daniels is a high profile target, anyways, later today I want you and Jones to swing by that gallery today see what you can learn." Peter replied, still optimistic.

"Boss, I have some great information for you," came Jones voice through the door.

"It's open, come in."

"Well, since Caffrey said that he would probably go back into town was proved right since he was spotted in midtown. So, I started surveying traffic cam footage and I found something you might like to see."

A couple minutes later the entire team was assembled in the meeting room. Jones spoke up "Here we see the boy entering the building at 6:20 then not 10 minutes passes before he reappears with a backpack and disappears from this camera's sight. I will try to follow his movement, but I thought I would let you know first."

"That's good; this will help us get that warrant for the bank."

"It did," piped in Diana, "The judge signed off on the warrant after he saw this footage, I was just about to head over,"

"Ok, here's the plan, Jones and Neal, I want you two to keep combing over the footage. Once you're finished with that, head over to the art gallery. Diana, you and I are going to go to the bank," commanded Peter.

* * *

Peter and Diana walked into a very busy bank. The pair strode over to a clerk as Peter pulled his badge. "Hi, we need to talk to your supervisor."

"Sure, just follow me." The man stood and motioned them in a direction. He led them to an office on the far side of building.

The man inside irately looked up as the clerk led them inside. "I told you I was busy today, I don't want any interruptions!"

"Oh, don't worry; we won't take up too much of your time. We just came to execute this warrant. I am Peter Burke, an FBI agent. We have reason to believe a criminal on the run came here yesterday around 6:20. We have proof of him entering this building at that time; this warrant is for your security footage."

"Yeah, sure, you guys can take a look at the footage, that's no big deal," he spoke, his mannerisms completely changed. Then he turned to the clerk and snapped," You, take them to the video room!"

"Well then, if you would follow me once again."

The video room turned out to be a small area equipped with many TVs and some very impressive electronic equipment. "You should find everything you need, also we have each desk mic'd, so if you need to audio on a certain area, just tell me."

"So, let's see here according to our timeline he entered the building at 6:20." Diana immediately brought the video to the appropriate time stamp.

"There he is, right on time," Peter mused aloud. He watched as the boy made his way over to one of the clerks. "Get me audio on that desk please." He asked the clerk.

_"Hi, I would like to access my Safety Deposit Box," Alex smiled._

_The teller glanced at him," Ok, sir, what is your name"_

_"Bond, Alex Bond. Account number C934. Authorization code 7515." Alex smirked._

_"Ok Mr. Bond, if you would follow me please." The clerk then stood and led Alex off screen._

Many thoughts that ran through Peter's mind as he watched the video, the boy was clearly Alex Beckett, yet, he had said it was Alex Bond. He also wondered if the boy had after all given FBI his real name. However, if they could get access to that safety deposit box, it might reveal some things about the kid.

Diana voiced the question that was on both of their minds, "Can we get access to that safety deposit box?"

"Normally, I would say no, but that deposit box was a different type of account. It only requires the authentication code to be accessed. So, I believe I can show it to you, since you heard the code anyway," announced the supervisor who had just joined.

"Thank you," Peter thanked.

The clerk then led the pair into an area with many curtained booths. "Please sit in here; I will bring it to you shortly."

The clerk reappeared quickly with a suitcase in his hand. He lay the case in front of the pair and left without a word. Peter then cautiously opened the case, mentally prepared for it to be empty. The kid had left with a backpack; maybe he had emptied it before leaving.

What he did see, however, blew his mind. Only two little books were inside, at first he believed the boy had left another clue of some sort. Upon further inspection, he discovered that the two little books were in fact, passports. Diana held the same surprised expression on her face. The next revelation shocked the two even further; neither of the passports were American. One was Russian and the other English. Peter's phone ringing snapped the two out of their revere.

"Hello?" Peter answered.

"Hey, Peter, it's Neal. We found something good on the footage," Neal spoke excitedly.

"All right, we are done here too and we've got some monumental news. See you soon."

* * *

Later

Jones began to speak once everyone had once again congregated in the area," Well, Neal and I followed Alex's path after he left the bank. He first visited a small roadside restaurant right next to the bank. Nothing wrong with that, but, here is where I got confused, I watched this part over and over again, but it seemed to me like he never came back out."

"That is where I did notice something," Neal spoke," I noticed that no one that looked exactly like Alex came back out, but, someone who's overall figure with different color hair did come out. So, I assumed that this was him in disguise and watched this new person. I'm not completely sure it is him, but unless he decided to camp out in there, it is our best bet."

"Ok, so where does he lead us?"

"Well, he hails a cab almost immediately. At this point I got an idea; I called Mozzie and had him send me this particular taxi's GPS data." At this point Peter sent Neal a very disapproving look.

"Well, it would have taken forever to track it with traffic cameras," Neal defended.

"Anyways, so where did the cab take him?"

"This is where Neal's idea gets a little sketchy. The taxi took its customer to La Guardia airport. I don't believe he would go to the airport. Flights are not cheap, so unless his bank account held a couple thousand, I don't think he could have gone anywhere." Jones answered.

"No, there is a good chance it is him. We found something major at the bank. The safety deposit box held these two little books," Peter tossed the two passports on the table as he spoke. "What's more is that he opened the account under a different name than he told us. On top of that, neither of these passports are American."

"Wow, this is some quality work, this definitely would not be cheap." Neal complimented, examining the books.

"It doesn't end there either; these passports aren't under the same name either. The English one is under the name of Alcott Welford and the Russian is under the name Anastas Mihaylov."

"So, we have four names, possibly a fifth that he might be using right now, and only one person. I don't even know what to believe anymore. If he really did go to the airport, he could be anywhere by now. He could be halfway across the planet right now!" Jones exasperatedly spoke.

* * *

Alex Rider

Alex stepped off the platform in Paris, France feeling tired as hell. At first, he had planned on flying straight to Paris; however, at that current time there weren't any direct flights open. In the end, he had ended up flying from New York to Milwaukee to Chicago to Bern, Switzerland then finally to Paris. His layover in Bern had been a longer one, so Alex had taken the opportunity to visit the bank which held his regular bank account to withdraw some money. He loved that Europe had an open borders policy; with his French passport he would be able to access almost any country on the continent. Only a true artist would be able to differentiate between his fakes and the real thing. Most airport customs agents were not amazing artist, so he was able to get through without any hassle. He believed that by now the FBI had probably figured out he was no longer in New York; he had left the other two passports back in the bank on purpose. If he had not, they never would have believed that he had the means to go to other countries. This would probably leave them a little depressed; however, that was why Alex had left behind the two quotes. Both of the quotes came from the same book, which took place almost completely in France. He only hoped that they would be smart enough to pick up on the slightly ambiguous hint. In Paris he visited a local bank to open an account under the name of Pierre Jacques and placed the money he had withdrawn from his Swiss bank account in it.

When he had been cells of the Italian Mob he had learned something major. At first he had believed that it was just groundless gossip, but then when the coup d'état had occurred it had been like a partial confirmation. He still was not completely sold however, which is why he had delayed his escape by so much, plus he had enjoyed his stay at the FBI a little. However, now that Owen was dead, he knew he could not delay the inevitable any longer. He also knew that the CIA majorly dealt with overseas investigations, so it was more likely that the rumors were true. So, he had come to Paris to confirm it with his own eyes. He also sincerely hoped that the FBI would continue to chase him, that way they would be a bit safer, and if something bad did happen to him, if they followed his trail, they might be able to find him. As he drifted through the town one thing was clear in his mind; he was not here on vacation. However, that did not mean he could not enjoy himself a little, it was Paris after all.

**Chapter 7 finished. I want to make an announcement, there will not be an update next week Thursday, I am going home for Spring Break, and I am going to try and focus on my own writing a little. However, you guys can look forward to a longer chapter the Thursday afterward. Any questions, just ask me in a review, I will try my best to answer. See you all the Thursday after next.**

**-Wheel Then**


	8. Classified

**Hey all, sorry about the late update and for disappearing like that. I got back to college and the work just caught up to me a little. Even right now I should be working on another essay, but I really needed a break. But here is Chapter 8. Thanks to all who faved, followed, and reviewed. To make up for being late, there will be another update again this week. Hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**-Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or White Collar**

Classified

Peter Burke

It had been a day since the White Collar division had discovered that Alex Beckett was no ordinary boy, and since then they had not been able to procure any leads what so ever. Peter was not in a good mood, thoughts about the case had prevented him from sleeping at all. In the end, he had simply slogged down to the kitchen and poured himself some coffee. Apparently, Neil was also having a tough time sleeping because he had called Peter and had come over to his house at around 1 in the morning. The two of them had gone back to the beginning of the case armed with new knowledge of the boy. Peter now reckoned that Alex could have been the thief they had been looking for. However, Neil accused him of just being bitter because the boy had escaped from within his grasp. The argument wasn't entirely false in Peter's mind. Neil had quickly risen to the teenager's defense, basing his argument on his reaction to being accused of even being involved with the bonds. Peter had not been able to argue with that statement either. The boy had not opened up much but that was one of the moments that he had been completely unbalanced and had spoken what was truly on his mind.

Still, Peter did not believe it was a coincidence that the boy had been in the same room as their supposed thief. He was now ready to explore and investigate any possible connection between the two. As he sat lost in thought, four men entered the office, earning the stares of all the employees present. The four men were crisply dressed in suits and black sunglasses which hid their eyes. However, their faces held an expression of complete authority. They walked in perfect harmony of each other, almost like they had practiced walking in such a way. The four marched straight past the general area without a moment's hesitation and strode into Peter's upstairs office.

"Peter Burke?" asked the first man.

"Yes, how may I help you?" Peter replied nonchalantly, calming his thoughts.

"You have to come with us," commanded the same man.

"Why?"

"We have authorization to use force to make you comply" the man threatened, raising his jacket to reveal a 9mm Glock handgun in a shoulder holster.

"Are you threatening an FBI agent, in an office filled with more FBI agents?" Peter asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Look, you must come with us immediately, you may even bring along your team. Time is of the essence. You need to come with us; it is relevant to your current case." The man answered a sense of emergency creeping into his voice.

"All right, I will comply with your request on one condition. You leave your weapons here."

* * *

After the men had surprisingly agreed to his request they had led the team into two separate black Cadillac Escalades with deeply tinted windows. The two cars weaved through the traffic towards their unknown destination. Peter's mind was racing; the men had come in to his office with threatening words yet had given up their weapons so easily, it was almost too good to be true. He did not completely understand it.

The cars drove on in an uncomfortable silence until both stopped in front of a very familiar building. It was one that Peter and Neal had nearly entered just the day before. It was the art gallery. One thing had been confirmed in Peter's mind, the art gallery must have only been a front for whatever business it actually was. The team exited their respective cars and entered the gallery cautiously, Neal lagging a little behind the others due to being unarmed. Two of the four men entered the gallery behind the team and motioned for them to follow the pair. The pair led the group through the back door, then into an elevator. The elevator was surprising high class for the modest type of shop out front. It had an LCD display and touch screen for the command console. The first man held nondescript card in front a seemingly blank area of the elevator. However, the change was immediate, the LCD display immediately changed to show at least 7 new floors underneath the building. The second man then proceeded to press the very last floor.

When the doors reopened the area that it revealed was quite vast with many people working at their respective desks. If Peter had not known he was underground, he would not have been able to tell from the lighting in the area. The two men, who had brought them here, led them to a small conference room. In the room were two men, one whom Peter knew, and the other one he did not. The one he did not recognize was a man who looked about in his sixties with grizzled white hair and moustache. The other was none other than Ben Daniels, and he did not look happy.

"Ah, welcome, welcome. I apologize for the charade with my men, but it was necessary. Ah, where are my manners, come in, come in. I am Joe Byrne, Director of Operations for the CIA," the first man introduced.

At this point, none of the team was surprised, after seeing the underground office, it was almost expected.

"Well, you already know who I am, but let me introduce myself anyways. I am Ben Daniels, MI6 liaison to the CIA. Sorry about knocking you out, I needed to deliver the card and leave without being arrested." Though he was apologizing, his demeanor was still harsh.

"So, what do you have that is pertinent to the stolen bonds my department is hunting?"

"Oh, those never existed," the older man offhandedly spoke.

"What?" Peter questioned, his tone controlled.

"That's not possible; the owner of those bonds contacted us and showed proof that they existed." Neal cut in.

"CIA funds go a long way," the man smugly spoke.

"So, let me get this straight, you brought us here to tell us that the case we thought we were trying to solve doesn't even exist. What did want to accomplish by this?" Peter asked, his anger threating to spill into his voice. He was absolutely furious, the man who sat before had been toying with his department like they were nothing but tools.

"Well, that and Mr. Daniels here wants to talk to you."

"Yes," Daniels began calmly," How could you let him RUN AWAY?!" His voice had risen an octave by the time he had finished.

"We did not LET anyone run away, he just did. We are trying to find out why too!" Peter was undeterred. In his mind Daniels did not have any right to get angry. The FBI had not done anything wrong. It was the CIA who had been manipulative.

"Now, now, both of you calm down and let's talk this out like the civilized men we are." Joe Byrne interjected.

"Well, if not to talk about bonds, what did you call us here for?"

"It would have been better if you had entered the building yesterday, we could have done a lot more if the boy was still in your care. However, since you no longer have him in custody, I can only request that you find him before we can go any further. Also, I wish for you to work with Mr. Daniels here in order to retrieve him." The older man rattled.

"Why exactly do you want him?" Peter curiously inquired. Peter was curious due to how Joe Byrne had stated his request, it was to 'retrieve him' like a stolen object, not 'find him' like a missing boy. Peter did not like the under tone in that statement.

"I am afraid I cannot tell you, it is a classified matter. You only need to know that it is of the utmost importance that you retrieve him."

"Classified?! He is just a boy?!"

"I am afraid so," Byrne said again, "Anyways, you all should be on your way; you have a lot of work to do. Good luck."

"At least tell us who he is. Any background information could help us greatly," Diana asked the director.

"Again, I cannot reveal anything to you, so it is useless to ask me. Mr. Daniels has also been informed not to say anything unless the situation requires it. It is best you leave now, and begin your search for the boy." Joe Byrne finished with an air of authority.

* * *

Peter was a little disheartened by the fact that this visit had turned out like it had, but he was also happy to be back in the FBI office. The CIA's mind games were beginning to annoy him quite a bit. First, the case that they had been assigned had NEVER existed. So the boy had been innocent of Bond theft after all. Peter would have felt guilty for treating the boy how he had, but seeing as they had found fake passports, he wasn't sure the boy was completely innocent. On top of all that, the CIA had placed a watchdog on them under the guise of helping them find the teenager. As he sat fuming in his office with Neal and Daniels, Peter was struck with an idea that could help get some information out of Daniels.

"So, Mr. Daniels, what can you tell us about the boy?" Peter asked.

"The only thing I can tell you without revealing National Secrets is that his first name is Alex, and that he has lived a very hard life." The English man spoke, "Oh, and I would prefer it if you would call me Ben."

"National Secrets, huh! What is he, the president's illegitimate son?" Neal joked rhetorically, evidently trying to lighten the mood.

"He would have led an easier life if that were the case." Ben muttered so softly that Peter almost did not catch the comment. "Moving on, do have any leads as to where he could have gone?"

"Well," began Peter, this was where his plan was to begin. If his plan worked they could get some more information. "Let me take you through the story of what we have so far. The first sighting we have of him after he cut his anklet was in a bank in midtown."

"Do you know what he accessed there?" Ben asked earnestly.

"Yeah, a safety deposit box, which we found empty except for two passports under fake names. We presume he has a third with him."

"Can I see those passports?" Ben asked, alarm written on his face.

Neal cut in at this point, "We are having them appraised by an expert as we speak,"

Peter almost snorted at Neal's words, it was true that they were being appraised; however, it was just Mozzie who was taking a look at them. "Anyways, from there, we completely lost him. However, we picked up someone that we assume is him in disguise. So, assuming it was him we followed his route via the GPS system on the taxi he hailed, it led us to his destination, the airport." This was the trap he Peter had laid, and without saying a single word of untruth. It was evident to Peter that Alex had been fairly close to Ben. So, if Ben could tell them where he believed Alex would go, they might find the boy. Peter also believed that if Ben had been asked straight out on his thoughts on Alex's disappearance, he would have given some evasive answer.

"Airport!" Ben exclaimed, "He wouldn't, check that data again. No, no, no, he can't. If he did. Oh, this is not good." He sputtered. The change that had taken place in Ben was almost comical, one minute he was quiet and listening. The next he looked like was having WW3 within his own mind.

"Huh?" were the only words that came to mind. Peter had been hoping he would get some reaction, but this was absolutely crazy.

"Hold on just a minute." Ben spoke regaining composure, "It is not like Alex to just drop everything and leave like this. Did he leave anything else behind, in the deposit box for example?"

"He did leave something behind, two quotes. If you want to hear them, I need to know why the CIA is so interested in him. It could be life or death." Peter sighed; he did not feel like playing mind games anymore. He just wanted answers.

"Fine, I cannot tell you the whole story, but I can tell you this much. Someone wants Alex dead, and they are willing to pay 6 figures for it to happen. So, we want him in our custody for safekeeping."

* * *

Alex Rider

It had not Alex long to set up his cover in Paris. He was supposed to be a young 16 year old travelling art student, learning during the day and working at night. A problem he had encountered was getting his alias to look like him. Pierre Jacques evidently had black hair and green eyes. Alex did not mind wearing contacts, but he absolutely despised wearing wigs for longer than necessary. In the end, Alex had ended up buying long lasting hair dye to cover his natural hair color.

The major problem Alex found, was finding a place to stay. It was hard finding a decent place that could double as his base. He eventually found a nice two room apartment for a fairly cheap price in the Montmartre district of Paris. It was also in an amazing location for his mission. The apartment he had found was just off the border of the Pigalle and Montmartre. Alex knew that if he snooped around in Pigalle, also known as the red light district of Paris **(1)**, he would come across the suppliers of the explosives. It was really quite a cover; no government agency would expect the Italian Mob to be secretly smuggling out of Paris instead of Venice. Even he himself would never have suspected it without proof.

Alex knew it would not be easy to snoop around such an area without arousing suspicion, so he gotten a job in a local bar. He might be too young to drink, but he remembered back in the UK a person only had to be 16 to work behind the bar **(2)**. Alex himself was 15, but his alias was 16, so it all worked out. He was pretty sure the same applied here, but to his surprise he was hired on the spot. Apparently, the place he had gotten a job in was fairly new and had not yet built up a reputation yet. So, they had been in a crunch in find people to hire.

He also had another angle to consider, Peter Burke and the FBI. He sincerely hoped that they had stopped prying into the Italian Mob and had focused their efforts on him. His main fear, though, was that the team would somehow get into contact with Ben. If he entered the equation, who knows what he could be authorized to tell them. If Ben told them about his past, they might head to Venice and end up in wrong city. However, all he could do was hope; hope that they would pick up on his clues. If they followed his clues correctly they would be all right.

**Chapter 8 is done. Hope you guys liked it. If there are any questions, don't be afraid to ask me, I will answer. See you again really soon.**

**-Wheel Then**

**(1)- Montmartre and Pigalle really are border districting in Paris and Pigalle really is the red light district of Paris.**

**(2)- In UK, the law is that with Adult Supervision and Parental Consent, minors under the age of 18, but over the age of 16, can sell Alcoholic drinks. This is not true in France; in France the person must be 18 to either to consume or to sell. However, because it helps my story, I am making the French law is the same as the UK law.**


	9. Names

**I have no excuses for being this late with the chapter. It's been almost a month now. Sorry. I can't say much more. I can't say when I will update next. But I won't drop a story. That is just not me. Hope you enjoy Chapter 9 of Plain Sight.**

**Foreshadow-of-Dusk: Thanks for clearing that up I will keep it in mind.**

**General E: I am sorry, I tried to fit the Russians in, but I can't think of a realistic way to do it. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or White Collar**

Names

Peter Burke

'Six figures, six figures, six figures.' Those two words spun around in Peters mind like an echo. That was a high enough sum to interest any assassin in need of money. Alex had clearly not led an easy life. Peter thought back to his conversations with the teenager. He felt a little guilty for how he and treated Alex. Finding the boy had to become priority number one; the FBI had to reach him before any assassin.

"Neal, show him the card, we don't have any time to waste." Peter instructed.

Neal met Peter gaze with a blank stare, "I don't have it."

"Cut the crap Neal, I know you swiped from evidence earlier."

"Fine," Neal grudgingly spoke, "I was just going to run some tests on the paper to see if he left some invisible clues for us." Neal pulled the card from his suit pocket and laid it on the table.

"That might work, what tests were you going to do?" intersected Ben.

"Nothing too major considering that he would have had limited tools to work with. I was planning on running a black light and if nothing showed up, pouring some grape juice over it." **(1)**

"Hmmm… Maybe, that could reveal something." Peter mused aloud as Ben lifted the card.

"Well, sorry to break your fantasies, but there isn't any invisible hidden message on this paper. It is simply a paper. Normally when there is invisible writing on a paper, the paper feels different due to the treatment of the ink. This card feels like nothing but paper." Ben explained.

"So, the message he left us were truly those quotes?" Neal asked.

"Yes, that is most likely what he left behi…" Ben voice trailed off as he answered the question. His face turned white and his eyes dilated.

"Please tell me that he left something else. This can't be all of it. I…" Ben spoke again, his voice cracking. "Tell me you know what this second quote means, beca…" his voice failed again.

"That's why I said it was a matter of life or death earlier. That is truly all he left behind." Peter told the liaison straightly.

"My associate and I have tried to crack any type of code that we think could possibly be in this message. We have come across nothing. Is there anything else that you can think off?" Neal added.

"In the time I knew Alex, he was never one to waste words. The clue is the quote."

"Boss! I think I found something big." Diana's excited voice spoke from the doorway.

"Shoot."

"Well, umm." She stalled, glancing quickly at Ben.

"He's fine," Peter confirmed, "Just continue, we have less time than we thought."

"Ok," she began, "I was thinking that in order to buy a plane ticket, you need some serious cash. He also had no access to any money when he was with us. So, I realized he would have to buy the tickets at the airport."

"That's good, so if we get warrant for airport records, we could at least get names of those who paid for tickets at the counter," Peter surmised.

"In this day and age, most people buy airline tickets online," Ben added.

"Luckily for us, the department head at La Guardia airport is an old friend of mine."

"Good friend you have there," Neal quipped, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

"Anyways, she just sent over records for people who bought tickets at the counter after noon yesterday. The list isn't long." She placed a file in front of Peter. "That file contains names. No financials or itineraries. She said that sending names was a grey area, anything more would not work." **(2)**

Peter picked up the file and shuffled through it. A total of 6 names were in the file. "Illiyas Vilovic, Arnold Palent, Lisa Palent, Pierre Jacques, Levi Piccoli, and Kayla Smith." Peter read off.

"Well we can immediately rule out the women and the married couple," Neal supplied.

"Ben, you knew Alex the best, which do you think could be him?" Peter asked.

"Hmm… A background check on the final 3 names would be best to decide that." Ben mediated.

"Your gut feeling then?" Peter pressed.

"Well, Alex does have a history in Italy, so the name Piccoli might be a good place to start." Ben mused.

* * *

Alex Rider

Alex stared at his work schedule; he was working just about every other night. That would not leave a lot of time to snoop around town. From the look of the place he was going to be working at, it did not seem like anything special. Plain chairs, plain bar, plain drinks, plain floor. So, he figured that he wouldn't have to do much except for treat a few regulars. If they got drunk enough, they might even slip some leads to him. He did not realize how wrong he was until he showed up for his first night of work.

To his surprise Alex saw a line, a line complete with mean faced bouncers and flashing lights. He approached one of the bouncers and drew his new id card. The bouncer moved aside to let him through. Alex walked in to find only two people on the floor. One was the manager and the other a girl Alex didn't recognize.

"Ah Pierre, you're here, let me introduce you to Martinne, she will be teaching you." He introduced in French. "Now I must attend to some duties downstairs, follow me, if you would."

The downstairs was absolutely packed with people. If Alex didn't know any better he would have thought that this place had been open for years. The rest of the night passed in a blur, between serving drinks and kicking out the more than occasional too drunk customer. Alex was left with little time to glean any information. The little information he did glean, however, was about the nearest drug dealer. He did not put too much stock into the information; the teenager who had told him had been as high as a kite.

As he dragged his tired feet back to his apartment Alex thought about his next move. The bar/club probably wasn't going to give any new information. He still needed the job to pay the rent; it would look odd if a student living on his own was surviving without any source of income. He could try simply playing the part of 'nosy brat' and stick his nose in all the wrong places and maybe discover something useful. No, that would be too dangerous, who knows how many more enemies he would create if he did that. Alex was really wishing that he some type of contacts in the area, specifically contacts that would not betray him to MI6 or the CIA, when something occurred.

"Mr. Rider, you're a hard man to find," a low voice whispered in a Russian accent from behind him. "Ah, I don't think so," the voice continued as Alex began to turn. "I have gun trained on you, so, just follow my directions."

"Left… Right…Right…Left here." The man kept barking orders from time to time. Alex did not respond with words. He was too busy trying to find a way to rectify the situation. From looking in to windows and other such reflective surfaces, he had already surmised his position. The man behind him was about 180cm tall with striking facial features, including scars. The man did indeed hold what appeared to be a gun underneath his jacket, pointed straight at Alex.

Alex pounced once the man ordered him to turn into an alley. The alley was a both the best spot and the worst spot. The best spot because it would make sure there were no bystanders, and the worst because it would restrict movement. The alley was only about 4 people wide. At the moment, the pros outweighed the cons.

As he entered the alleyway, Alex pretended to trip. This move not only sent him to the ground, but also took him out of a potential bullets path. As soon as Alex landed he immediately rolled to his left and bounced to his feet.

"Really Rider, is that your best move?" The man smirked, revealing his gun.

"Nope," Alex smiled. He lunged forward bring his palm down hard on the man gun's and the other up on the man's wrist. The gun went clattering to the ground and the smirk was replaced with a wince. Alex wasted the no time, he stepped back, dragging his foot to knock away the gun, and delivered a swift kick to the man's leg. Alex's kick met its target, but did not have the affect he wished. The man had stepped in, so instead of Alex's foot hitting, it had been Alex's thigh which had struck. The man punched out, dislocating Alex's shoulder and knocking him back a few feet. The attacker stood resolute and smiled sinisterly, producing a small knife from his sleeve.

Alex sank into a natural defensive position, if his opponent had a knife, Alex would have to get in close. Attacking would accomplish that, but it could also get him cut in the process, plus his shoulder hurt like hell. Having a knife would also make his opponent want to attack. Sure enough, the man bounded forward, slashing the knife from right to left in a wide arc. Alex stepped back, the knife harmlessly flying. As soon as the knife had passed, Alex stepped in. His opponent was now caught in an awkward position. Alex was right in front of him, but both hands were on one side of his body, so he could make no move. Anything he did would unbalance him and he would fall. Alex took advantage of this and brought his unhurt hand down on the man's temple, effectively knocking him out.

Alex brought his hand up to his shoulder and popped the joint back into place, hissing from the pain. Alex was completely confused; no one here should have known who he was. He was going to get some information out of this guy. Alex hunted around, finding quite a few useful items, including rope. He then proceeded to drag the unconscious body behind a dumpster and tied him to the post.

"Hey, wake up!" Alex shouted. No response. Well, then, why not have some fun. Alex grabbed one of the beer bottles he had found. He emptied the rest of the contents on the body. Alex didn't even know what was inside, but he really did not think it was old beer. It smelled to foul for that. The man eyes fluttered and he coughed.

"Fuck." He cursed in Russian. "There goes my six million." He stared at Alex with beady eyes filled with anger.

"Who sent you!" Alex demanded loudly, waving the knife in front of the man's face. "What do you want!"

"I believe your misunderstanding something, I am not a man who is _sent,_ I am so much more." He spat.

"Fine, then what is it you want?" Alex questioned.

"Anima Rotto." He muttered. That wasn't even the oddest part. Even though both had only spoken in Russian, he had clearly spoken words which were not in that language.

"Anima rotto? Huh?"

"When you realize the meaning of those words, that is when you _die_." The man accentuated. He then proceeded to bite something within his own mouth.

"Damn." Alex spoke. He recognized the action. Cyanide, fast acting and an almost guaranteed death, and he had given Alex almost no information. The man slumped forward, convulsed once and threw up, after which he never moved again. Alex moved forward and frisked the now dead body. He found no more useful weapons, but he did find a wallet with an id. The name of the corpse was Illiyas Vilovic. He also found a card within the wallet which struck Alex as curious, Valle d'Aosta **(3)**. Valle d'Aosta rang a bell in Alex's mind, it was a place Alex had gone in one of his trips with Ian. It was also one of the three Italian themed bars in Paris. The most surprising part however, was the bars reputation was amazing. It was considered to be extremely high class and very expensive. It wasn't even in the district of Pigalle; in fact it was in Trocadero** (4)**, the wealthiest of all the districts. The only reason Alex even knew so much about this was because it was that well known. This was going to be a problem.

That wasn't the only problem however; Alex also had a dead body on his hands. This was not good, there were no people, but a dead body was a dead body. Alex could only see one option in front of him. The dumpster, placing the body there and covering with filth would mask its rotten scent and it probably wouldn't be found by anyone after the trash was taken to the landfill. It wasn't the cleanest or nicest of options, but at the moment he did didn't have any other choice.

* * *

Peter Burke Peter sat in his office poring over the new information Diana had just given him. The background checks had been quite thorough. Their best lead, Levi Piccoli, had been dismissed immediately. The man was over 80 years old, there was no way Alex could be him. The other two ids had come up quite a bit more interesting, the name Illiyas Vilovic had come up with a file that was barely a paper long. It held no age, no picture, and no other pertinent information other than the nationality, Russian. The name Pierre Jacques didn't hold much more information, but the most interesting part about the file was the picture, it was a picture of green eyed, black haired boy, with a striking resemblance to Alex's facial features.

"It is him." stated Ben, shocking Peter because he truly had not heard the man come in.

"Yeah, it probably is, but this one has green eyes," contradicted Peter.

"I recognized him disguised as an Afgan refuge with much darker skin and mis-." Ben cut off. "Anyways, I can say with confidence that it is him."

Afgan refuge? That statement confused him a bit. Why would Alex be disguised in that? Halloween? Nah. Peter walked out to the main floor of the office. As he approached, Diana, Jones and Neal gravitated to him. "Diana, I want you to get a warrant on the name Pierre Jacques. I want to know his entire itinerary. I think we found him."

"On it."

"Neal ,where did the book that the two quotes came from take place?" Peter asked, a hunch forming in his mind.

"Peter, A Tale of Two cities took place in England and France. The story was about an French Aristocrat who is on trial in England who after being acquitted goes back to France just as the revolution is about to start. But what does that have to do with Pierre Jacques." "It was deeper than I thought." Peter muttered. "At first I noticed that Pierre's nationality was French and I remembered something from College English that the book took place in France."

"That's very circumstantial, Peter." Neal skeptically spoke. "You wouldn't be able to convince many people…" Neal paused for a minute as he thought. "But, I think I have something that just might."

Neal walked back to his desk and leafed through a book. "Here, right here. In this part Darnay- the main character- is on trial in England. Alex was in our custody here. Darnay, after being acquitted, due to a case of mistaken identity, went back to France after the trial. Alex, though not acquitted, was only arrested because of misunderstanding. Darnay went back to France because of unfinished business with his uncle, the Marquis. Alex's card clearly showed that he ha-"

"Yes, yes, ok. You don't need to say anymore." Interrupted Ben, "There is a high probability he is in France. That's going to be a problem. None of us here have any jurisdiction there."

Peter simply smiled, "Jones, I want you to find the itinerary for Illiyas Villovic. I have a feeling he is going to help us quite a bit."

* * *

"Hello?"

"Meilin Wan, this is Peter Burke. I have a proposal for a joint operation." **(5)**

**There, all done. Hope you all enjoyed chapter 9. I can't promise the next update to be next week Thursday or something like that, but I can promise that I won't make you wait a month before the next update. This chapter took a while to write. I had written myself into a corner when the inspiration came. See you again soon.**

**-Wheel Then **

**(1)-Look it up, there are really some cool ways to make invisible ink. **

**(2)-I am pretty sure just sending Names of passenger without a warrant is illegal. I fudged that a little for this story. **

**(3)-Valle d'Aosta is a province in Italy; it is not (to my knowledge) a high class bar in Paris. **

**(4)-Trocadero really is the wealthiest district in Paris **

**(5) Meilin was a side character in an episode of White Collar. To keep the suspense up at least a little I won't reveal which one.**

**Afternote- FF did something weird to the second half of the chapter, I believe I have have fixed it. So if anything is missing or just seems odd, please tell me.**


	10. Plans

**Hey, I'm back with Chapter 10 of Plain Sight. I updated fairly quickly. That's a good sign, right? I just got over some writers block again, so the story feels like its flowing right now. Thanks to all who faved, followed and reviewed. Hope you all enjoy the Chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or White Collar**

Plans

Peter Burke

Peter had come up with this plan just about 10 minutes ago. Diana had just come back with the itineraries of both Alex and Villovic. It was no surprise to Peter when Alex's itinerary ended in France. It did surprise him that Villovic had also ended up in Paris, albeit a day after Alex. Then had come some grim news from Jones, while he was doing research on Villovic, he had found something while searching the Eurasia database. Illiyas Villovic was a suspected alias for a Serbian assassin, Srecho Yovanovic. The bright side, in Neal's view, was that he was only suspected of 10 assassinations. Peter didn't share the same sentiment. According to him, the list was 10 names too long.

Then the inkling that he had began to take roots. A fully formed plan soon came to his mind. There had just been one thing lacking, a computer genius. However, he still discussed it with the group. Agent Daniels surprised Peter, when he said that he knew a very technologically smart man who could get the job done. Peter had asked if the man he knew could keep the secret, to which Ben had come up with another surprising answer. For Alex, yes, he will keep it a secret.

Eight minutes later, Ben had returned saying that Part 1 was finished. All it had taken was one phone call; the man had done the rest in less than 3 minutes. Connecting the phone through secure phone lines and satellites had taken longer than the actual job. Peter was impressed.

Part one was supposed the hard part; part two was to get their targets to bite. Part two was also Peter's job.

* * *

"Peter Burke, I did not think I would hear from you again." Meilin replied, her voice sounded amused.

"Situations change."

"That is true, so what do you mean by a joint operation?"

"A couple days ago we flagged a suspicious passport leaving the US, but, not being able to find anything on him, TSA was forced to let him go. He is a prime suspect for the case we are working on." It had been Neal's idea to tweak the story a little.

"So, just give us a name, and we will get him for you and send him to America for prosecution."

"No, that won't work. I want to be there when we take this son of bitch down. It's personal. If he were still in America, I would be the first in line to arrest him. But, he isn't, and I have no jurisdiction in Europe, which is why I need help from Interpol." Peter explained.

"Give me a name Burke, and I will see what I can do."

"Vilovic, Illiyas Villovic."

The entire team had gathered in the conference anticipating the phone call. Peter's office phone had been rerouted so that the calls would be forwarded here. Sure enough, the phone rang. Peter put it on speaker phone. "Hello?"

"Peter, I have good news and bad news."

"Bad news first."

"I don't owe you or Caffrey any favors anymore, and tell Caffrey to breathe quieter, I can hear him."

Peter ignored the second part. "The good news is?"

"Well, our files don't seem to have much on him, just a couple of assault crimes. If you want him, go ahead, we will give you permission. Most countries in Europe have an extradition treaty**(1)** with the US, why did you need our authorization."

This question caught Peter off guard a little, of course France had an extradition treaty with the US, but if they did not get authorization from Interpol, the FBI would have been stuck with fewer resources. However, Peter could not just come out and say that.

It was Neal who responded, "I thought it was obvious, not every country has an extradition policy. So, we need your permission to go into those ones, just in case our suspect tries to run to one of those." He supplied eloquently.

"Okay," and with that the phone clicked silent.

* * *

With that the team jumped in to cheers. Peter's plan had worked perfectly. Peter had known that if Interpol had done a background check on Villovic and found that he was a suspected assassin, they would want to arrest him for themselves. Turf wars being what they are. That was why he had needed a computer expert, to hack in and quietly change the Interpol files. Of course, the crimes would not be wiped away, simply hidden until they found Alex. Then the files would change back and the people at Interpol would be none the wiser. Plus, there was a good chance that they would encounter Villovic while looking for Alex, seeing as he was probably doing the same.

"Paris, Paris, Paris, the words just seem to echo through my mind." Neal spoke. "The soft cushioning light hitting the Seine causing an explosion of color bringing new hope of day, the fiery red sunset casting shadows for lovers to hide, and the midnight glow of fair city shining to stars as proof of existence. Peter, you have let me come. It's Paris!" Neal pleaded.

"I'll think about it." Peter did trust Neal; however, Paris was the center of the world for Art. So, he simply wasn't sure.

"Well, decide fast, our flight leaves, tomorrow 9 sharp," he spoke, then added seeing the looks he received. "What? I am an influential agent, I'm not just some watchdog assigned to this project!" he spoke this in an indignant tone.

In the end, Peter decided to take Neal with him. Who know what he and Mozzie would do the city if he did not watch at least one of them properly.

* * *

Paris truly was beautiful. The team had been placed in the tourist district of Paris, Marais. This district held attractions including, Notre Dame de Paris and Hotel De Ville. Peter almost regretted bring Neal, for almost the entire plane ride, Neal was talking facts about Paris. So as soon as they had settled into the hotel, Peter had sent Neal with Jones to go sightseeing. With Neal acting the way he was, he wouldn't get much done.

So, he, Diana, and Ben set up shop in one of their hotel rooms. The trio spread all the information they had gathered on Alex on the table. It wasn't much. The two fake passports, the two quotes, his itinerary and few accompanying pictures. With just this much information, Peter was considering how lucky they had been to be able to narrow it down to one city. Of course, Alex himself had helped them quite a bit.

Ben spoke first, "We should probably start a search on Interpol records for the name Illiyas Villovic to cover our tracks."

Diana piped in, "We could also start a search for Pierre Jacques, as a suspected associate. That won't give out our true intentions."

"That's all good, but there has to be something more we can do." Peter frustratingly said. They were in the same city, but were no further than before to finding the teenager.

"There is something," said the familiar voice of Neal Caffrey.

"Back from sightseeing already," Diana quipped.

"Couldn't get my head in to it," he replied seriously. "Anyways, look at Alex's movements in New York. Before we arrested him, he had established an emergency back account. He probably did the same here."

"There are too many banks in Paris to cover all of them." Jones cut in pessimistically.

"I'm not done yet. So, the last bank he used was a fairly large one, which leads me to believe he would do the same here…" he trailed off.

Ben jumped in complete wrapped in the theory, "… after all when being chased by people with guns, being in a public and crowded place is the safest place to be." He finished.

"Chased? Guns? What do you mean?" Peter now knew that Alex had lived a hard life, but what Ben just said had made no sense to him. This was the second time the man had said something out of character.

"It's nothing," he covered blunder by walking out of the room and remarking, "You guys ask around the banks. Sorry, but I have an old friend I have to visit."

Peter then spoke again, "Diana, Jones, I want you to take the major banks east of the Palais Royal. Neal, you and I are going to take West.

* * *

For the next hour Peter and Neal wandered the streets, checking each bank they saw. Each time they got the same response, "I am soree monsier, but we have not seen eem." In varying degrees of English accents.

Finally, they found one bank that might have something. The manager had at first told them that they had not seen him, however, one of the clerks had interrupted the conversation. Peter wasn't entirely sure what the new woman had spoken, as she had spoken completely in French, but the managers face completely changed.

Neal leaned over to Peter and spoke softly in his ear. "She knows him, however, it is not from the bank."

The manager smiled to them and spoke, "This young ladee knows him. If you could vait for a little vile, she knows a vay."

Peter was about to respond, when Neal cut in, "Nous aimerions que beaucoup, merci." **(We would like that very much, thank you)**

"Votre accueil," the man replied. **(Your welcome)**

Peter could do no more than nod with a smile, the only thing he had understood was the word Merci, which he was pretty sure meant thank you. "What did you say," he hissed to Neal once the pair had left. "And since when can you speak French?"

"Peter, have a little bit more confidence in me. French is the language of love and art, why wouldn't I know it? Also, I just told them that we would like that and thanked them."

"So, why haven't you been talking to the managers in French?"

"It was fun watching you."

After another about 10 minutes the girl returned and introduced herself as Martinne Geroux. At night she had a second job as a waitress in a nearby club/bar. Also, apparently she was coworkers with a Pierre Jacques. Of course, Peter learned none of this from her, all of this came translated from Neal. When Peter heard that Alex had started working at a bar, he was little apprehensive. The kid wasn't even 18 yet, what was he doing at a bar. How had he even landed a job in such a place? He understood once he saw the area. The red light district, it was one of the seediest districts in Paris and definitely not the nicest of places to work. Still, he didn't like the idea of kid working here, no matter his previous life experiences.

The bar seemed like an okay place, but then again it was still daylight out. Its true colors wouldn't be seen until night time. The trio walked in, Neal still happily chatting with Martinne, and Peter still as apprehensive as before. There was only one man in the shop, who smiled as soon as he saw customers. Peter beckoned Neal over and introduced themselves as consultants for Interpol, as that was their official title here in Europe. Them, he moved forward by showing a picture of Alex disguised as Pierre, and asked if he had seen him before.

The shopkeepers eyes grew wide then spoke in good English, "Yes, yes, I hired just him a couple of days ago. Has he done something wrong? Should I not have hired him?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that. He is a perfectly good person. We just want to find him for his own safety and by hiring him; you have really helped us out." Peter thanked, happy that the man could speak decent English. "Can you give us an address of something similar?"

"Yes, I can." The man then proceeded to lift a ledger from a cabinet. "Here are the addresses of my employees. Here is Pierre."

"Thank you, you have really helped a lot. Thank you." Peter repeated as the pair left the store. Peter felt quite happy; they had a major breakthrough in the case. They had the address that the teenager lived at. Maybe it was too early, but Peter felt happy, and felt a sense of accomplishment. Their job in Europe was almost done. He quickly dialed Diana and Jones and told them to meet at the address given by the club owner.

The team met in the lobby of the building in the Montmartre district of Paris. Ben had also arrived having been also been relayed the information. They decided that they would go together, and confront Alex as a team.

* * *

Alex was crying. He didn't mean to, but the tears wouldn't stop falling. He lay, curled and hurt, on the floor. He had trusted, only to be betrayed. Alex thought that he would help, no; he had left Alex in this cold dungeon to rot. He wasn't coming for Alex at all. Only after realizing the treachery had Alex understood what the assassin had meant by Anima Rotto. It was Italian for broken soul. And the assassin had not lied, when Alex had realized the meaning, Alex had been dead. Even if his heart still beat, he was no longer alive.

**Bit shorter of a chapter, sorry. Anyways, Story wise there a probably 2 chapters left, including the epilogue. Little bit of a cliffie ending. Loose ends will be wrapped up next chapter. Oh, and be ready for a big twist. Originally, I had planned this to be a quick 6-7 chapter fic, with a bit of a different plot. It changed. If there are any mistakes within the writing please tell me. Also, the French Accent, it may be wrong, I apologize if I offended anyone. And I used Google translate for the French part. It might also not be the best words for the job. See you all next time. **

**-Wheel Then**

**(1)- An Extradition Treaty should be a fairly simple government document. It simply meant to state that if a criminal crosses border into another country, US agents are allowed to make arrest on that countries soil. Due to politics its a huge treaty with a bunch of clauses and amendments that I won't get in to. Due to these clauses, I believe that there is quite a long process that needs to occur before going over borders. It is much easier to have the an agency with jurisdiction grant you permission, it's a lot faster. (Of course I don't know the process for this, so I it's my imagination.)**


	11. Truth

**Final Chapter of Plain Sight. Chapter 11. Hope you all enjoy it. Thank you for all the faves, follows, and reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or White Collar**

Truth

Peter Burke

The team entered the apartment with a high spirit, something that was dashed the minute they entered the room. The place was trashed, couches were knocked over, chairs broken, dents in the walls, and blood. Blood was everywhere, some of it still wet.

"Damn it, we're too late." Peter cursed. This did not bode well, whatever Alex had been pursuing had gotten to him before they had. "Neal, I want you and Diana to go talk to the neighbors, see if they heard anything. With this level of damage chances are high that it wasn't silent. Jones, Ben, we are going to search this room from top to bottom, if Alex found something out, it might still be here."

The team nodded, all of them were still a bit overwhelmed by the scene that lay in front of them. Diana and Neal shuffled out at Peter's orders. Peter found a few pairs of plastic gloves in the kitchen of the apartment and handed them a pair each to Jones and Ben. The apartment did not hold many items, no personal effects as far as Peter could see. The place looked quite empty.

Searching through the apartment the trio did not find many things, at least nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn't until Neal and Diana had come back that the team made a discovery. Well, it was more Neal who had made it. He had gone around each room checking any and every hiding spot he knew. Finally he found a small file hidden in the false bottom of a drawer. The file looked plain was fairly thin. It held 5 documents and a card.

The card was of a restaurant, Valle d'Aosta and written in Alex's handwriting on the back, '_Illiyas Villovic?' _This struck a little more fear into Peter's heart; Alex had definitely met the assassin who had been trailing just hoped that nothing bad had occurred to Alex during that meeting, however, it was an assassin meeting his mark, so Peter did not put too much stock in that hope.

The first paper was a review of the restaurant, Valle d'Aosta. The next two paper held a list of financial transactions, most of which were written in French so Peter did not really understand too much of it. What he did understand were the number, and some were quite large. The next was a newspaper clipping of the explosion that had occurred back in New York. Since it had occurred in a residential area the story had exploded into media hit. The final paper was a piece of notebook paper, this paper held a message from Alex.

_Hello Burke, good job, you found me. If you are reading this however, I am either out, or have been taken. Depends on the state of the place, if the place is trashed, assume the worst; if the apartment seems in order, I'm probably just out at the moment. This file includes all the incriminating information to take down an explosives smuggling ring. This is the ring that was responsible for the explosion back in New York. I came here to Paris to hunt down a lead that I discovered before being arrested by you. After the bomb blast, I knew I had to action; sitting on my ass in New York would just get people hurt. Sorry for running like that, if there had been another option, I would have jumped at it._

_Anyways, back to the explosives ring. It all started when I was attacked by the assassin Illiyas Villovic (probably not his real name, but that's the one I found on his ID). By the way, he is dead; don't waste your time looking. I didn't kill him, if that's what you're wondering. Anyways I found a card in his wallet that I found interesting, it was for the restaurant Valle D'Aosta. So, I snooped around that restaurant a little, pretending to be a snooty, rich, and spoiled child. Security was extremely lax after I proved that I had the money to back up my act (Don't ask, I won't answer). I was able to take some printouts of their financials; the printouts I took were of second set of transactions that weren't on the regular ledger. Finally, I went and checked out some of the transactions, I struck gold on the very first one I looked in to. The warehouse that they supposedly purchased for ease of access to the river doesn't even exist. Also, if you look at the second page, 15__th__ line, there is a purchase of a fairly expensive yacht that does exist. I would be able to explain better if we met in person, however, I feel I am being tailed so, I am writing this as a precaution. I am also assuming due to the extradition treaty the US has with France, if I have been taken you can come after me to "arrest me" and just "happen" to find illegal explosives ready to shipped out. I must warn you, however, do not come in without backup, this is the Italian Mob we are talking about._

_-Agent Alex Rider _

Peter read the letter aloud to the entire group. This was quite a heavy letter. Alex had clearly thought everything through pretty well, even leaving this behind for them to find. It was like Alex had done everything from them, like he was the adult who was teaching the infant to walk by holding their hand the entire way through. When Peter had learned that Villovic was dead, his first thought had been Alex, how else could he have known? Alex had denied killing him in the very next line, so Peter let that go. When Peter read the part about Alex sneaking into the Valle D'Aosta by pretending to be a snooty brat, Neal was the one who had grinned. Peter guessed it was because that was normally Neal's area of expertise, and he had liked Alex's plan. By then end of the letter all of Peter's team faces emulated shock. Each had been impressed by the teenager's skills, each had also been horrified that the teenagers had those skills. Ben had been the only one who had remained stoic throughout the letter. The thing Peter found the most shocking was the sign off Alex had used, _"Agent Alex Rider?" _Ben is there anything you might like to tell us?"

"Seeing as Alex has already revealed it to you, it can't hurt anymore. You probably realized that Alex is no ordinary child a while ago. Alex, is, well was, a spy."

"A teenage spy!?" Peter was floored.

"Yes, I don't know all too much myself, but he is one of the best the intelligence world has every laid eyes on."

"You seem to care about Alex, why did you let this happen!?" Peter was outraged. The intelligence community was no place for teenagers, it was too dangerous.

"He was an agent before I was; in fact, he is ranked higher than I am."

"His parents!? Relatives!? Guardians!? Did anybody try!?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why, is it because it _classified_ or something. We need to know everything if we want to bring him back alive!" Neal cut in his voice raised as well.

"No, it's not classified as you say, but that is not my story to tell. Beside to bring him back alive, all we need is the information on these documents." Ben finished and held up the folder. "If he was taken by the Italian mob, all of their assets are on this document; we just have to find the place Alex is most likely being kept."

"Okay," Peter reluctantly agreed, "Let's find Alex first, then we can worry about the rest later."

Jones stepped forward, "We probably get back from Interpol. We can offer them the credit of a major bust, and we get Alex, everyone gets what they want."

"Good, that will work. However, we have to be sure we have the right location, we do not want the tip off the mob that we are on to them." Ben offered.

"True enough, I can transcribe the lines into English, but just from here I can tell there are going to be a fair amount of option." Neal told.

Peter then turned to Ben, "Hey, you visited an old friend yesterday, can he/she help with this?"

"Sorry, that won't work. My brother's wife and child are buried here in France. Both were born here." Ben somberly spoke.

"Sorry," Peter replied, immediately sorry for suggesting the idea.

* * *

Hour later

The team had returned to their hotel rooms. Each had pored over the document and had now compiled a list of the most likely places a hostage could be held. The list had originally held a list total 60 places over the two pages. Alex had evidently done some research because some lines were crossed out as non-existent purchases. Finally they had narrowed the list down three places. The first was the yacht on the Seine. Jones had argued this because a yacht was large enough and was mobile, so it would be harder to pinpoint. The second was small house in the outskirts of Paris, in the residential areas. This location was backed by both Neal and Ben because it was inconspicuous. The final place was a fairly large warehouse just outside the main port of Paris. Peter argued that this was the mostly likely spot because it was also most likely were the explosives were being kept. Criminals of this level normally were control freaks; they liked to keep everything in one place so it could easily be watched over. Diana had agreed with Peter on this.

Peter shushed the argument and then called up Meilin. They might not have placed the location completely yet, but they had enough information to ask for back up from Interpol.

"Hello Meilin,"

"Burke, that was fast, did you catch your man already?" her voice surprised.

"No, we hit a little snag. It's turned into a little bit of a hostage situation."

"Hostage?"

"Yes, we were following up a lead on Villovic. During the course of our investigation, we discovered Villovic is more than just a criminal on the run. We now he is an assassin for hire. We discovered his target was a boy named Alex Rider,"

"Rider? Are you sure?"

"I have a Ben Daniels here who can confirm it. Anyways, this Alex Rider was apparently doing an investigation of his own. He left a record of his investigation in his room which was completely trashed. He had discovered a major explosives smuggling operation. It is our assumption that they are the ones who have kidnapped him."

"What can we do?"

Peter proceeded to read off their three locations, "These are the locations that we believe he could be held in. If you could check out these places discreetly, it would be great."

* * *

Meilin had gotten back to them within 30 minutes; apparently the name Rider was influential here in Europe. The house in the suburbs and the yacht both had seemed deserted, however, the warehouse had been a different story. It had been a flurry of activity, suspicious people and suspicious crates coming in and out. The team had been equipped with everything from Kevlar vests to M14 selective fire automatic rifles. Even Ben had been geared up. Neal, for obvious reason was left with the operation handlers. He had no complaints either way. Of course, the FBI would not be the first team to go in, that would be left up to the French Special Forces. Interpol had done a really good job, as far as Peter could tell, the enemy had realized anything.

Peter's earpiece buzzed, "Team one, ready. Team two, ready…" A total of 7 teams including Peters were going raid the warehouse. There were also two teams of snipers in the area. All set up on nearby rooftops. **(1)**

"Commence," a voice spoke over the comm.

The French special force broke in with ease, smashing the doors open with sheer might and surged in guns up. The firefight did not last long; their trick had worked perfectly. When Peter's team plus Ben entered, the preliminary guards had already been subdued. So, working in tandem with the other teams, they foraged deeper in the place. This was no normal warehouse, normal warehouse held one big room with shelves and items. This place was a maze. Complete with walls and many rooms. This place was more of a regular building that its outward appearance suggested. As they team moved onward they saw many different types of rooms, ranging from jail cells to extravagantly furnished rooms. The one thing they did not encounter was resistance; the entire building so far seemed to be empty of people. One team relayed that they had found the explosives completely unguarded. Something was going on, and Peter wasn't sure what, but he was sure once he found out, he was not going to like it. There was nothing they could do right now, so Peter put it out of his mind.

That was when the loudspeaker in the building turned on. "Ahem, Alright. Special Forces, FBI, Interpol. I have what you want. I have the hostage you came here to get in my custody. I'm not really sure how you found this place but it doesn't matter. Now, I want the FBI team meet me outside the building, next to the river. No one else, let's talk. Disobey me and the boy dies. You have 5 minutes."

Peter spoke into his earpiece, "He never said no guns, we will be fine. Pull your men back." He then nodded to Diana, Jones, and Ben.

The team then retraced its steps to the entrance they had entered from and made their way around the building warily. The sight they were greeted with once they rounded the corner was not a pleasant one. Alex had a gun to his neck. His entire body was completely supported by the hooded man standing behind him. The only indication he was alive was his slow rhythmic breathing that was barely audible. The man who stood behind Alex revealed himself as the team drew closer.

"Ah, shit, I forgot to mention for you to leave your guns behind, didn't I." The man spoke in an American accent. When the hood fell completely off, the shock of who it was shook Peter to his core. It was Owen Daniels.

Ben was the first to speak, "You… but how… brother, dead?" He was too shocked too form complete sentences.

"That's right; I am supposed to be dead. You never did find a body, though, did you?"

Peter found his voice. "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious, it's because I hate government."

"Lauren and Sam were KILLED in terrorist BOMBING. Is that how you honor your wife and son, by turning around and selling explosives!?" Ben defiantly shouted. Now the man was angry. He had every right to be, his own brother was traitor.

"Let me tell you a little story Ben. That so called terrorist bombing, wasn't done by terrorist at all. It was done by her majesties government to silence a few individuals who they considered a threat. They didn't care about any of the other bystanders. That's right, Ben, your MI6 is the reason my wife and son are DEAD!" Owen sneered back. "Now, here comes my ride," He pointed at a yacht on the river.

Peter's earpiece buzzed again, "If I get a clear shot should I take it?"

"Yes," buzzed another.

"You don't have to do this, Alex is just a kid, he deserves better." Peter negotiated.

"Burke, let me tell you something. Rider is an MI6 operative, an agency that I hate. In fact you could say that I have a vendetta against them. I will kill MI6, even if it means killing my own brother." The man's words were filled with hate.

Then two shots went off. Owen had turned his gun away from Alex and shot at his brother and this action was apparently enough for a sniper to shoot. Three bodies fell to the ground, at least one dead.

Peter and Diana rushed forward to check on Alex and Owen. Jones moved to the side to check on Ben. Owen was dead; the bullet had gone straight through his heart.

"Fuck!" Peter swore. It wasn't a word he used much, but it fit the situation.

The shot had not been clean; in fact it had gone through Alex then killed Owen. Alex was alive, but barely. The bullet had gone straight through his left shoulder, dealing an unknown amount of damage.

"We need to get him to a hospital, NOW!" he yelled.

* * *

Alex Rider

Alex opened his eyes expecting to be alone in alone in the darkness of his. Instead, he saw a hospital room with Burke snoozing in the corner. Last thing he remembered was Owen, personally visiting him, and clocking him over the head with a club. All of his efforts had not been in vain. He probably would never have been captured, had it not been Owen who had knocked on his door. Alex had been elated to see the man alive, it was then that Owen had stuck a knife into Alex, all while promising a slow death. Alex had fought, hard, but with a knife wound already sapping his strength, he had eventually lost.

"Ah, you're awake, how do you feel?" Burke had awakened.

"Despite what I've been through, nothing hurts," It was true, his body literally felt fine.

"That's probably because of the pain killers." Burke responded. "Try moving your left arm."

Alex tried it. It wouldn't move. His arm refused to obey him. "What is going on?" Alex was panicking a little.

"A standoff between us and Owen occurred. Owen was killed, you were hit, and Ben was injured. That's the short version. The doctor said there was a good chance you left arm is unusable, there was too much damage to the nerves in your shoulder. I had to check."

"What's going to happen to me now?" Alex asked. He did not really have any place to go. He could not live alone with a paralyzed arm even if it was his non-dominant hand.

"You're coming with us. After all you are still in the custody of the FBI." Burke said this, but his tone was light and his face held a kind smile.

**Done. Final chapter of Plain Sight is done. If you guys want one, I can write an epilogue, otherwise this is the end of the story. Hope you all have enjoyed the reading this. I know I had fun writing this. This was my first Chaptered fic. So, completing means a lot to me. Thank you all for your support through favs, follows, and reviews. If anything is unclear, just ask and I will respond. Just a little extra fact, since the introduction of Owen in Chapter 3, he was always going to be the bad guy.**

**-Wheel Then**

**(1)- I don't believe French special forces would speak in English for operations, but please bear with it.**


	12. Epilogue

**Whoa been a while hasn't it. At first I was going to publish this about a month and a half ago, but then I scrapped that idea. It is a bit smaller than most chapters, but it's the epilogue, it's not a 'chapter' as per say. Anyway, without further ado, the end to my first chaptered fic Plain Sight. Thanks to all who stuck with me through the story. I know I wasn't always the most consistent updater, so thanks for bearing with me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or White Collar**

Epilogue- 1 year later

Peter Burke

The doctors had been wrong. The damage to Alex's left arm had been severe, but mendable; it all depended on the will of the person. However, nerves when growing grow at a very slow pace, around 1mm a day. Which also meant it would be very painful for that period of time. The arm, though, would never be as strong as it once and the nerves a bit more sensitive. It had taken a total of 20 weeks for Alex's nerves to completely knit together once more, and since Alex's immune system had built up immunity to the pain medications in the first few weeks, it was not a fun process for him. On top of that the doctor's had insisted that the teenagers arm be put in plaster to allow an easier healing process. As far as Peter could tell, it had just irritated Alex more than it helped him.

Ben was alive, but not in the best condition. His brother s bullet had passed cleanly through Ben's stomach, missing anything and everything fatal; doing no lasting physical damage. Mental was another story all together. For the first few weeks, Ben refused to talk to anybody at all, even Alex. Then as the weeks passed by Alex had sort of forced his way into the room and made the agent talk. This had apparently worked because after whatever Alex had said to Ben; the man had begun talking to a counselor and venturing out a little bit more. The last Peter had heard from him was that he had left MI6 and gone back to college to complete his degree. Things were looking up for the man.

At the office the closure rate for the FBI White Collar division had jumped up again; which helped in gaining many commendations from the top brass. Alex and Neal had created a sort of rivalry as to who would solve cases faster. Much to the teenager's annoyance, the ex-con currently led in wins column. No matter how much they competed, though, it looked like to Peter like the two got on pretty well. In fact it was in part due to that boy that Peter and Neal had been able to set aside their arguments and trust issues after the U-boat incident.

However, no matter how friendly and amicable he seemed, Peter never once saw his guard drop. Peter suspected that it would take him a fair amount of time before the betrayed teen could trust whole heartedly again. El had, of course, disregarded Peter's words completely and made it her mission to help Alex trust again. She had taken the boy under her wing saying that_, "That boy just needs to see that someone still cares for him."_ She had many times scolded Peter for taking Alex out on stakeouts and some arrests citing that it was too dangerous. El had also pushed Alex to go back to school, no matter that Alex's private education exceeded most college second years. _"It would be a good opportunity to make some friends in his age group rather than some job-obsessed FBI agents all day,"_ she had argued with a dangerous glint in her eye. Since neither Peter nor Alex wished to refute her, the two had gone the next day and enrolled him into a school under the name of Alex Starbright.

Not all had been gumdrops and ice cream however, in the past year there had been 2 attempts to kidnap Alex and one attempt on his life. Each of them had fallen short of the target, but had never the less shook up Peter a little. Even though he knew a little bit of the dangerous life that Alex had lived in the past, each attempt still surprised and repulsed him a little. The other divisions were quite happy, however. After each perpetrator was arrested, they were immediately sent to the right division. This in turn helped bring many terrorist and criminal organizations to their knees from the intelligence that the captured grunts provided. All could soon be well.

* * *

Alex Rider

Alex was at the moment quite excited. Today was the day that the FBI was going to arrest Mathew Keller. The man had tried to kidnap El. If Alex had not been with her at the time, he had no doubt that she would have been taken by the villainous man. He had also really come to enjoy this life the last few months. Concocting a bullshit story about a horse riding accident and being home schooled, he had even been able to attend a local high school and at least act like a teenager. Alex had also been able to pay some homage to Jack by taking her last name.

He had also gained a rocky friendship with Neal. He only described it as 'rocky' because after the botched kidnapping, Alex had become quite suspicious of him. What would he have that was so valuable that Keller would go as far as to kidnap the wife of an FBI agent? Then he had contacted Smithers and gotten a beautiful present, a one for all hacking key. All he would have to do is use it in the vicinity of the area. Alex had then seen the trove of treasure that Neal had claimed not to have and taken a swing by the warehouse to confirm its authenticity. Everything about the job was completely clean, too clean. This allowed Alex to rule out Neal as the possible thief. Neal may have known about it, but he was not the one who had stolen. The entire job was had one person's name written all over it, the elusive man known as 'The Cleaner.'

So, Alex had gone the easy way, he had confronted Neal.

* * *

_"Hello Neal, Sara," Alex greeted as the pair entered Neal's apartment._

_"Alex! What are you doing here?" Neal questioned._

_"Sara, sorry about this, I just had a huge breakthrough in the case. Peter and El have date night tonight, so I came here. If I had known you…" Alex lied smoothly._

_"Oh no it's fine, you boys have fun. I see you tomorrow Neal," the comely women replied as she left._

_"You know as well as I do, that we have no case right now and that Peter and El are at home right now, not out on a date. So, I'll ask again, why are you here?" He spoke, his eyes narrowing._

_"It's about something I found the other day on a stroll along the river," Alex replied, his tone neutral._

_"What did you find?"_

_"I found… your backup plan…no your escape plan…no your __**treasure**__." Alex spoke thoughtfully, adding emphasis on the last word._

_"How?"_

_"It matters not how, but that I did."_

_"Why are you here then, why not just tell Peter?"_

_"You saved my life once, so I am going giving you two options. Either I tell Peter or you do. That is my ultimatum."_

_"What if I give-"_

_"Stop," Alex raised his hand, "I don't take bribe, besides I have enough money as it is."_

_"What about Keller, if he ever finds out where it is, he won't stop at anything to get it."_

_"Keller is already pretty sure you have it. He even tried to kidnap me and El. I fended him off and made it seem like the kidnapper had been after me, but I saw who was under the hood. If we publicly break the news of the discovery of all these lost artifacts, we can lay a trap for Keller." Alex finished._

_"What if I need it to make a getaway if someone comes after me that Peter cannot go against?"_

_"Come to me, I may not like using it, but I do have a fair amount of sway in the world politics," he laughed dryly. Then seeing the look on Neal's face he continued, "Tell the cleaner Lucas Pierce says hi," Alex smirked. Lucas Pierce was the alias that Alex had been using during the most unfortunate hostage situation not too long ago._

It had been the very next day that Neal had come clean about having the treasure. Neal had even pulled Alex aside and thanked him for his idea and told him that Mozzie had gone very pale at that name. Then after months of planning, the trap had been laid for Keller, only for it to fail. Not completely, Keller had not been able to get a cent of the treasure, but he had also made a clean getaway. However, after hours of meticulously poring over the data that they had gathered from the trap, the FBI White Collar division had finally tracked him to a small warehouse/flat in Queens. All would be well.

* * *

Peter Burke

Peter was quite serious in the instance. This was a big take down. The man on the other side of the door had many crimes to pay for, including murder, kidnapping, among a whole lot of other things.

"FBI, OPEN UP!" Peter yelled. There was no sound from inside. Peter nodded to the nearest agent, who then proceeded to smash down the door and charge in, guns ablaze. Keller was lying on the bed. Peter quietly crept up on the sleeping man and cuffed him. There was no reaction.

"Hey wake, you are under arrest!" Peter yelled. Still no response.

"Is he even alive?" Jones whispered from behind him.

Peter checked immediately, there was no heartbeat. "Flip him." Peter commanded.

Sure enough, there was a small bullet hole on the man left breast and a little card pinned on the right breast pocket.

_Goodbye little Alex, you are finally where you need to be_

_All will now be well_

_-YG_

**Fin. For the last time in this story. I covered a bit more of White Collar story line in this, but that is because it took place almost entirely in New York. Just a few little changes, Keller is unable to kidnap El because Alex is there, and even with one arm weaker, Alex is still pretty powerful. Also with the little Yassen at the end, he once told Alex should not be in this type of world, this my way of showing Yassen way of showing approval for him leaving. I also know that Yassen is supposed to be dead, but I felt like this a better way to end it. Any questions feel free to ask, I will reply in a PM. Anything I missed, leave a message and I will fix it ASAP.**

**-Wheel Then**


End file.
